Harem of Angels
by Cubone-kun
Summary: When Ichigo finds out just how the people close to him really feel, it can lead to akward, but certainly not unpleasant results. Join him on his (con)quest to find out just what friendships, romances, and the line between the two truly mean. Harem fic involving Ichigo, Tatsuki, Orihime, Rukia, Yoruichi, Nel and many, many more! All credit goes to Tite Kubo. PLEASE review.
1. The Karate Queen

Ichigo's head slammed to the floor. Hard.

"Damn it, Tatsuki!" He grunted as he sat up on the waxed hardwood floor of the Karakura public dojo, running his hand over his obnoxious orange hair on the bruised area as he did so. "How many times do I have to tell you that a spar is just that: a God damned SPAR!"

The addressed merely smirked and crossed her arms.

"You can't tell me that you haven't taken worse." She said slyly.

It was true. Through all of his trials and tribulations Ichigo had endured more beatings, cuts, bruises, and other, less pleasant injuries than most children with…err…more…abusive fathers could claim. However, the confrontation that had cost him his powers had, unfortunately, quelled his apatite for such activities. His reflexes were, however, sharp as ever, even stuck in the pitiful meat sack of a body he was forced to occupy as an ordinary human.

"You know, I didn't agree to come down here a few times a week to beat on a girl. You know I won't try to seriously hurt you, so why not let up a little?"

A telltale glare appeared in his opponent's eyes.

"Right now, I'm no less of a girl than you are." Tatsuki rebuked.

"Could have fooled me." It was Ichigo's turn to smirk. He barely dodged the fist that served as his partner's retort.

"Pretty good at squirming around on the floor!" She yelled in anger and derision.

"You think?" Strawberry responded, adding in a swift sideways kick to Tatsuki's shins, knocking her flat on her backside. "Maybe you'll gain a little perspective from down here with me." He continued, a devilish grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

This was a rare occasion in which Tatsuki couldn't come up with a witty taunt in response. First off, the impact of her ass meeting the floor had somewhat winded her, and second…that grin.

Since Ichigo had lost his powers, he had seemed so sullen. At first Tatsuki had thought that he felt helpless, powerless. That is why she had insisted he came down to spar with her; he wouldn't be able to live knowing he couldn't protect those he cared about. However, the sessions had hardly helped with his outlook. Her friend walked away with an endorphin rush and a couple of friendly bruises, but within a day his demeanor had reverted to its former, gloomy state. Tatsuki found herself staring at the telltale grin appearing on Strawberry's face with a mix of curiosity and nostalgia.

It disappeared. Instead, a look of concern established itself on Ichigo's strong, angular face.

"Are you alright, Tatsuki?" He asked, a little overbearingly. The creases of his eyebrows, his cheekbones and his mouth deepened as he worriedly looked over her for signs of injury.

Feeling his gaze fall upon her and seeing the exaggerated contour of her friend's face made Tatsuki experience two major epiphanies. The first was that Ichigo didn't miss fighting. On the contrary, he hated it. Every time they crossed fists, she had felt a reluctance to cause harm in his punches. And now, as she sat dazed, this battle-hardened warrior dithered over her like a mother hen. Hard hands, soft heart. All this time Ichigo had been missing the company of his friends, both those from the Seretei and those he had distanced himself from to avoid pulling them into the Winter War. He had been mourning the loss of intimacy, not bloodshed, in his life. It was moments like these that he needed most, not blows exchanged.

The second epiphany: Ichigo was damned good-looking. Not that the thought had never crossed her mind, but here he was, all grown up and all alone with her. The pronounced angles that made his face, those brown eyes that seemed to be leagues deep, that orange hair that was always just the slightest bit tousled…

_No, stop! _She caught herself, embarrassed to have been experiencing such girlish thoughts. This was Ichigo, for Christ's sake. Ichigo! _Ichigo…DAMN IT!_

"Tatsuki…?" Ichigo said once again, the concern on his face deepening. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"I'm…I'm fine." She said, sounding more out of breath than she actually felt.

"You sure? I didn't mean to be too rough with you. I was just kidding around." He stated, standing up and offering a hand to her. She blushed without meaning to.

_Damn it, damn it, DAMN IT!_ "I…can get up…myself." Tatsuki responded, eyes to the ground. An awkward, painfully slow ascent of her own ensued. "See?" Her eyes still wouldn't meet his.

"Um…are you pissed because I caught you off guard? Again, I didn't mean to-"

"Hurt me? As if! You're not even a shinigami anymore!" Maybe it was a jab at tension-relieving humor, maybe it was a defensive outburst, or maybe it was an attempt at repressing the developing attraction she was feeling. It could have been all three, or none at all. She couldn't recall. All she knew was that the concerned expression was gone, replaced once more with the hardened eyes and perpetual frown she had grown so accustomed to over the past couple of months.

"Thanks for your time. Call me up when you have the urge again." He said in a low tone, and turned towards the door. Tatsuki gritted her teeth.

_Fucking…idiot…_She berated herself. This wasn't even about her, and she had gone and let her feminist pride get in the way of her natural inclinations…and her friendship. For the first time since Orihime had been kidnapped by the Arrancar, Tatsuki felt hot tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. One brief glimpse of a brighter tomorrow had disappeared almost as spontaneously as it had shown up.

"Ichigo, wait!" She called after, her voice almost cracking. He didn't acknowledge her. "Stop! I'm sorry!" His hand was reaching for the door.

Once again seized by the moment, Tatsuki did what she usually did when she felt uncomfortable: she attacked. No elaborate footwork or neutralization technique; no technique at all. She sprinted a short distance, let her feet leave the floor and caught the poor young man in a full-body tackle.

Fortunately, the door swung inward to open, meaning that the tangled heap of adolescents didn't tumble out onto the street corner. Unfortunately, the door was stainless steel, and not the best cushion for Ichigo and Tatsuki's fall.

"What the hell-" Ichigo's words caught in his throat.

"Ichigo, I didn't mean it! I would never say anything to purposely hurt you…" The corners of her eyes still wet, Tatsuki went on. "I made a stupid mistake, I'm just a bad loser is all…"

Bewildered, Ichigo answered quietly.

"Um, that's all right, Tatsuki. I was just going to blow off some steam on my own. But, um…"

The realization hit Tatsuki like a sack of bricks. In the act of forcing Ichigo to the ground, she had ended up on top of him. Not just on top, but _straddling _him. Possibly just a reflex when one is struggling on the floor with a larger opponent. Possibly.

_God DAMN it!_ The situation was escalating faster and farther than Tatsuki would ever have imagined or consented to. Now that the two were entwined on the floor of the dojo, her primal urges were stronger than ever. They were close enough so that she could see the individual beads of sweat clinging to Ichigo's handsome, flushed and completely confused face. She could see each bright orange hair plastered to his brow, and had to fight the urge to gently brush them away. She could feel the breath coming softly from his smooth lips. She longed to feel that breath on her neck, her own lips, and all of her body so much that she could not even admit to herself that she wanted it, so humiliatingly pleasurable the sensation appeared.

It was then that she realized that this was no spontaneous feeling. Ever since he had lost his mother Ichigo had seemed the most mature, dependable person their age. When the state of affairs with the Soul Society had escalated to the point of putting her in harm's way, it had always been Ichigo who had charged in at the last possible moment to eviscerate whatever evil had stood before her. Her best friend had for so long been the only boy she could bring herself to admire. And now that boy was a handsome young man, and for this moment in time he belonged to her.

She didn't stop to think. She couldn't, lest the logical pride that had dictated their relations for so long once again hold sway. Eyes still moist and tightly closed, she bent down through those impossibly huge couple of inches separating her from Ichigo. With a skipped heartbeat she met his lips, still slightly agape from surprise. Said astonishment only increased, with a palpable spasm traveling through the young man's body. Tatsuki couldn't blame him. The sensation of his hot lips touching her trembling ones, and the proximity of his body to hers sent a wonderfully involuntary shudder throughout the girl.

After a few seconds' guilty ecstasy she pulled away. Her face was a lovely shade of scarlet and her hands were trembling.

"I'm sorry…I just…needed to know what it would feel like…"

"Tatsuki…."

"I always find myself losing control around you…my temper, my fists, they've all fallen upon you when things get heated between us. I guess I've always kind of hoped it would lead to this. You can leave now, Ichigo; I've caused you enough trouble." She finished, barely above a whisper.

No words were uttered in response. No reaction at all for several seconds. Still directly on top of him, Tatsuki waited for the worst. What she received instead was a hand caressing her cheek. She met Ichigo's gaze to see that his luminous hazel eyes were staring right into her. In that gaze was reflected a deep sorrow, a wistful longing, and a reluctant happiness.

"I'm…I'm so grateful. For all you've done." Ichigo answered, if at all possible, more quietly than Tatsuki had presented her case. "You've been by my side for all of these years. My family life, high school, even my role as a shinigami…you never faltered in your support. You know me better than I know myself, in some ways."

Tatsuki's heart skipped a beat all over again.

"Then what…do you think of me?"

"Everything and nothing, Tatsuki. I've always respected you to the point where I could never let myself reduce you to a romantic interest. You've always been so much more to me. But knowing that the bond we share can only strengthen through hardship is making me a happier man than I have been in a long time. Knowing that a strong-spirited, kind-hearted and, honestly, beautiful young woman has taken to me in such a profound way makes everything I've done worthwhile, in a way."

_Did he just call me beautiful? _Tatsuki could hardly believe what she was hearing. Feelings so repressed that not even she could have called upon them more than ten minutes ago were eliciting a decisive response, and in her favor to boot. "Ichigo…I've come to like you…a lot."

"I've always liked you a lot, but in what ways is irrelevant. I've always been lucky to have you as a friend, and this only solidifies my feelings about us. Our souls are intertwined in a way that no earthly institution can compare."

"So being boyfriend and girlfriend…"

"Isn't out of the question. But I don't know that it's what is befitting of us."

_Is this conversation really taking place?_ Tatsuki thought to herself. The person she had discussed manga, sports and brawling with since the age of 9 was now defining how he wanted to go about forming a relationship with her. The mere thought of holding him, kissing him, spending long days with him stirred feelings of longing and joy within her, and a third, unfamiliar feeling that wasn't confined to her chest and head. _Is this the birds and the bees I've been told about so much?_ True, she was a woman grown, but a boyish lifestyle and strict self control had made her less susceptible to the daily temptations that plagued most teenagers. But in the heat of the moment, with this infuriately attractive man right up against her, inhibitions wavered.

"Tatsuki, you're a wonderful girl…a wonderful person. I don't want to tie you down and give you anything that isn't worth your time."

"Yeah?" She squeaked back, a small, embarrassed smile accompanying her response.

"I…don't know what to do…"

_Oh, what the hell. It's done well by me so far._ Once again Tatsuki made a leap of faith. The ecstatic burning in her loins was becoming unbearable.

"I think I do." She said, the small smile turning into an almost teasing grin. There was no way he couldn't feel the heat she was putting out. Ichigo's eyes widened and his skin grew the tiniest bit more damp. Not waiting for his response, she once again closed the gap between them, touching their lips with a deliberate softness, waiting for him to return her advances. He did. The slightest pressure from his part was all the confirmation Tatsuki needed to advance. She was vastly inexperienced in this department, but she knew full well Ichigo was as well. They had gone through many firsts together; how was sex any different?

Her hands left the floor and came to rest upon his chest, feeling the definition of his pectorals with such guilty relish as to make her blush all over again. The sweetness of his lips was all she could taste, all she wanted to. The musk of his sweat through the drenched clothes they both wore overwhelmed her in the best of ways, and she could hardly wait to be surrounded by that overpowering essence that represented all Ichigo was.

A sigh escaped Ichigo, surprising both of them. Such pleasure couldn't possibly be derived from Tatsuki, the tomboy he had known so long to be off-limits. But nonetheless he found his own hands wrapping around her slender waist, and his tongue running lightly over her lips. Sweat began pouring off of the pair, and for one of the first times it wasn't because they were trying to kill each other.

Tatsuki's hands clenched the fabric that stood between them and Ichigo's body, willing it to disappear so that she might fully explore the tantalizing ridges and valleys that made up his physique. Ichigo's own hands tightened their grip, almost imploring her to do just that. Gingerly, lovingly she began to disrobe him.

Upon realizing what she was doing, Ichigo aided Tatsuki in the act, throwing his arms back behind his head (for he was still on the floor) and allowing her to remove the dark grey tee at her own leisure. For the incredibly aroused young woman, his glistening upper body was a sight to behold, and one that only fueled the lustful fire within her. Her lips fell upon him once more, nuzzling at his neck as she ran her hands all over his exposed chest. Ichigo, always the slow learner with women, just now had the idea to slip his own hands under the back edge of Tatsuki's own top. The lean sinew of her lower back felt supple and firm under his fingertips, and neither of them could ignore the growing pressure that arose below his belt in response to the tantalizing heat of Tatsuki's womanhood.

"Here…let me…" Tatsuki trailed off as pulled off the white tank top she had been sporting through their sparring match, silently noting how she would need to dress to impress in the future if she wanted this to be a recurring situation. Ichigo was speechless upon seeing her shirtless. True, it wasn't the first time; they'd been close friends long enough so that they had each seen a healthy portion of each other on occasion, but the circumstances shed her body in a whole new light. Her raven hair, grown out over the past couple of months, cascaded down over her porcelain-white form…slender shoulders with exquisitely-muscled arms, breasts that, while not in the league of Orihime or Rangiku, were ample and firm, a waist that accentuated her hourglass form in a way that one wouldn't expect in such an athletic girl, and a core as tight and trimmed as most could be without giving a masculine appearance.

Feeling Ichigo's gaze upon her, Tatsuki blushed all over again, and began to cross her arms over her chest.

"No…" He whispered, and, with a sheepish smile, slid his hands up her back to the back of her bra. He, too, started to blush.

"What's with the color, Strawberry?" Tatsuki muttered with a nervous laugh. It was well received with hearty laughter from the other end.

"Took you all morning to think that one up, huh?" Ichigo responded, his blush gone and a genuine smile spreading across his face.

"Oh, shut it, you-"

_Click._

The hooks holding Tatsuki's bra to her body came undone at her partner's hands, and the lily-white garment fell onto his midsection.

Neither could utter a word. Tatsuki's eyes were transfixed on the brassiere that lay in a heap on Ichigo, the cool breeze that ran over her exposed breasts turning her soft, pink nipples hard quickly. Ichigo, who had never (by choice) seen a nude woman in person, felt color rushing to his face in earnest this time. He quite possibly did resemble his namesake.

It was Tatsuki who broke this silent spell, as she leant over once again, placed her hands on the sides of Ichigo's face, and whispered softly into his ear:

"I'm glad that it's you."

Vigor returned to the young man, as he wrapped his arms around her waist once more and kissed her deeply, running his tongue over her waiting lips. He could feel her shudder and only held her all the tighter.

Both had entered a state of hypersensitivity. The soft white skin of Tatsuki and the rippling muscle of Ichigo were tingling at the touch of one another, and the sweat of the spar and arousal hung in the air, a luscious musk that filled the lungs. The pungent salt of the sweat on their mouths would have made them lick their lips, if they weren't busy licking each other's. A low moan started emitting from Tatsuki, an erotic harmony to Ichigo's throaty sighs.

Ichigo could feel his member swelling with lust. He had opted to wear nylon shorts instead of jeans for the day's exercise, so he was guessing Tatsuki could, as well. She was wearing the same, albeit of a much shorter cut. They were about the same length as the boxers he was sporting, as a matter of fact…He started to think of what she had in the way of underwear, which made him so hard it almost hurt. He could feel the heat of her crotch intensifying, and it was all he could do no to take her immediately. Their tongues were intertwining by this point, their hot breath almost steaming as it escaped. Ichigo couldn't fully contain his animalistic urges and started grinding his lower body against hers.

Tatsuki broke the kiss, arched her back, and moaned at the gratification. Taking this as his cue, Ichigo continued rubbing the bulge in his pants against the growing wet spot on hers. A sensual whimper came from Tatsuki as she returned the action, her eyes squinting and sweat beading on her brow from the intense sensation.

Ichigo began making his own leaps and bounds within their little session. As intensely focused as he was on the erotic contact going on down below, the fact remained that Tatsuki's chest was directly in his face. Gingerly, he placed a kiss on it, just above her left breast. He could almost hear her heartbeat accelerate. Gaining confidence, he placed another, closer to her sweet spot, and another, until his lips were upon her hard, excited nipples. Tatsuki bit her lip and stifled a groan.

_Such a shame…_Ichigo thought, as he had come to find her little outburst quite pleasing to the ear. His tongue dart out, lightly running over the pink sweet spot of Tatsuki's left breast. He could almost imagine her biting her bottom lip and squinting her face as he felt her whole body lurch forward on top of him, and starting moving the tip of his tongue in slow circles.

"Mmmmph!" He could hear the fruits of his labor fighting to escape from his partner's pursed lips, and let the sides of his mouth contort into a grin around his still moving tongue. The fingers that had gripped the sides of his face were now clenched around tufts of his bright orange hair, and he could feel the grip tightening as he worked. His own hands had begun to explore the curves of Tatsuki's back, savoring the peaks of her shoulder blades and the indent that made the small of her back.

Tatsuki's own senses were on fire from Ichigo's advances, as she bit her tongue to avoid the embarrassing scream she had heard boys mockingly make since middle school. As humiliating as it was, she had found that there was at least some nugget of truth in the over-hyped ideology of teenage sexuality.

Not wanting to be left behind in the heat of passion, she lowered herself and arched her back even further, pressing her breasts into Ichigo's face and raising her ass up into the air simultaneously. She was going for a "naughty" pose, hoping that he would take the bait and go just a little bit further. As it turned out, Ichigo wasn't quite as slow a learner as she thought. His hands synchronized their paths as they moved upwards to clasp her rear, smooth in their motions where before they had been almost shaking.

"Mmmm…" Tatsuki had her moaning under control now, turning it into a throaty sigh that made the hair on Ichigo's neck stand on end. She began rocking slowly back and forth, enjoying Ichigo's newfound talent. Ichigo himself was having a ball, the knowledge that his jabs at foreplay were yielding such results. He fixed his lips to her large, pink nipple and started to suck, his tongue continuing to work all the while. The feeling of having Tatsuki's round, ample breasts mashed up against his face was at once a little degrading and infuriatingly arousing. No longer a simple bulge, Ichigo's member now stood out against the navy blue fabric of his gym shorts, impossible to hide even if the person in question isn't sitting on it.

_Dear God…_Thought Tatsuki. Even with her limited experience in sex, she could tell just how worked up her partner was from the pressure that was pushing against her own excited parts. Even now, with layers of drenched clothing between the two she could get a grasp on size, and it was safe to say that it wouldn't be an issue later on. She had lowered herself onto him completely, with his hands still grasping her ass, and quite vigorously at that. Feeling the exposed skin of their upper bodies connect created a heat that defied the cool autumn air that circulated through the dojo, and made what little clothing they had left on feel stifling and constricting.

Without warning she broke their contact and rolled off of him.

"Tatsuki, what-"

"Sssshhhh…" She hushed him as she went about pulling off the only thing that held back her immense arousal. Throwing her legs up into the air, she proceeded to remove the skimpy shorts that for so long she had worn with innocence and cast them aside. Ichigo's earlier inquiry on Tatsuki's style of underwear was answered, and his breath caught in his throat.

_A thong?_ His mind raced and spun around the concept. The most boyish girl he had ever known wore lingerie on a daily basis? He couldn't take his eyes off of the little black number that clung to her curves perfectly.

"What? It's comfortable when you move around so much…" She said, almost abashed. If her face wasn't already flushed from arousal then Ichigo would have seen the color creeping up to her cheeks.

"No, it's not that, it's just…wow…" Ichigo had sat up in looking at her, and his manhood stood almost straight out from underneath his shorts. It was Tatsuki's turn to stare.

Getting on all fours, she started to crawl towards him, an act aided in its sensuality by her topless circumstances. Planting her hands on the floor to either side of him, she leaned in close, letting their foreheads touch, and gave him a feather-light kiss.

"Let me take care of you." She said, not quite a whisper but low enough not to break the intimacy of the moment. The hand on the back of her head that pulled her into a deep, passionate meeting of the lips served as her affirmation.

Trailing her fingertips down Ichigo's bare body, she let them come to a halt at the seam of his shorts. Looking into his eyes once more to make sure that it was within bounds, she clenched the fabric in her petite, inexperienced hands and tugged. His pants and boxers moved as one, shifting only a foot or two and coming to a rest mid-thigh. While Tatsuki could have easily finished the job right then and there, the throbbing erection that greeted her efforts temporarily froze her to the spot.

She had gotten a rough estimate of its large size through the bulge that had been pressed up against her previously, but the actual proportions were those which she had dared not let slip into the realm of hope. Strawberry was circumcised (of course he was circumcised, his father was a doctor, and what good boy wasn't clean cut?), with a length between eight and nine inches, easily. No Ron Jeremy, but definitely above average, with thickness to match. Being the first penis she had ever seen in real life, Tatsuki was speechless at the sight of such a lucky catch. Her gaze was fixed upon it, and, while realizing that no member was a mantle-piece, she couldn't help but admire all Ichigo turned out to have going for him.

The naked young man in question was no more vocal; he was awaiting the judgment that inevitably came with the exhibition of one's private business. Being a teenage boy, he had of course seen one or two things that his parents wouldn't have approved of (well, perhaps HIS father would have), but the perfection present in such media always invoked a state of self-consciousness within him. The actors had always been a little more tan, a little smoother talking, and, worst of all, one or two inches longer. So now he stay still, breath caught in his throat as he anticipated Tatsuki's approval or rejection.

Once again, actions spoke in the absence of words. Tatsuki's hand darted forward, giving his cock a light squeeze, almost testing the strength of his arousal. A quiver ran through Ichigo's body at the stimulation, and he threw his head back in a surprised sigh of pleasure. His partner's free hand once again fastened itself to the rim of his shorts, pulling them all the way down to his ankles, at which point he had the coherence to kick them off himself. Tatsuki's grip ventured upward, the sensation of her stroking making Ichigo's heart pound in his ears. Almost curiously, she ran her thumb over the head of his member, getting a small amount of his pre-cum on her hand in the process. Releasing her grip on his manhood (much to his disappointment), Tatsuki brought her hand up to her mouth and gingerly took a taste.

Upon tasting his fluids, her eyes lit up in a way that confounded Ichigo. Looking once again into his eyes, she gave him a devious smile before hunching over him and grasping his member heartily.

He was about to ask what she was doing before he felt a moist warmth close around his cock. Sharply exhaling at the overwhelming stimulation, he looked down to see Tatsuki's ebony-haired head bobbing slowly up and down.

_Is this really happening?_ Ichigo thought in the midst of the pleasure receptors firing off in his head. Not fifteen minutes ago they had been trying to kick the crap out of each other, and now she was _blowing _him? The sloppy, unbelievably sexy sounds emanating from Tatsuki, coupled with the incomparable ecstasy he was feeling certainly suggested so.

Tatsuki herself wasn't making a bad time of it, either. Something about the idea of sucking off her best friend, the sheer, delicious _wrongness_ of it made her mind race and her slit drip. The taste of his arousal was strong upon her tongue, and she couldn't seem to get it out of him fast enough. She could feel every pulse of his growing erection as she ran her lips and tongue over it, glancing up every once in a while to give lingering, tantalizing eye contact. For her first time giving, she was doing a bang-up job. She had even had the foresight to cover her teeth before beginning, a sentiment most girls don't experience until called out upon. Afraid of gagging, she confined her activity to the first three or four inches of Ichigo's manhood; if this happened regularly she could get all the practice she needed to go further.

It was again Ichigo's turn to make a move. Gently placing his hand on the back of her head once again, he held a loose grip while starting to thrust. Not the most natural of movements, considering he was still sitting upon the floor and had to take great pains not to go to hard or too deep for his inexperienced lover, but the message got across all the same. Tatsuki began bobbing her head in rhythm with his strokes, the compact seal of her lips moving up and down his length with maddening smoothness. Unable to ignore her own desires any longer, she let one hand venture back to the soaked black panties that, for reasons that eluded her, were still on. Taking a single finger, she started to lightly massage her clit, arching her back and attempting to moan in the process.

Ichigo, who had not been paying attention to her hands, pulled from her mouth with a worried expression on his face.

"Did I go too fast for you?" He asked, but realized the circumstances before the question was even completed. Tatsuki kept that same, devious look on her face as she stroked harder and harder upon her sweet spot, sitting back and seeming to invite Ichigo to the party. He didn't need any verbal cues. Just as she had one twice before, he went on all fours to her, suspending himself above her as their lips met and hands explored. Ichigo's hand slid over Tatsuki's, aiding in the stimulation that practically begged the removal of her final, skimpy garment. After a mere few seconds, she withdrew her hand, confident that Ichigo knew what to do. She now used one to bring Ichigo in for an intense round of tongue fencing, while the other once again closed around his cock, able to stroke up and down heartily now that her mouth had slicked it over.

The two stayed there for a good four or five minutes, which to someone in the act of sex seems like an eternity. Opting for a more comfortable position, Tatsuki rolled onto her side, allowing Ichigo to lay opposite of her as they enjoyed each other's special attention. Almost unconsciously, Tatsuki began to thrust into the touch of her partner, grinding harder and harder against it until the fabric of her thong could be felt inside of her womanhood.

"Ichigo…I need to get a little air…" She whispered, glancing down to indicate her soaked panties. Nodding silently, her partner complied. Getting up onto his knees, he faced her sprawled, waiting form as his fingers looped under the edges of what little clothing she had left on. Almost dutifully, she threw her legs up into the air as he began to tug. Much quicker than his own underwear had come off, hers seemed to glide over the milky, smooth thighs that housed the musky heat that beckoned to him so. Almost immediately following her complete disrobing, Tatsuki allowed he feet to return to the floor, spreading her legs wide in the process. She gave him a look that was not seductive, but almost imploring. She needed him now more than ever, and he knew it.

Positioning himself over her, with his elbows on either side, he gave her one last, deep kiss before penetrating her. Almost instantaneously she arched her back and screamed, unable to stifle the unbridled intensity of her first time. Ichigo himself couldn't believe the tightness and drenched heat that surrounded his member at the act. Tatsuki's hips shot forth wildly, forcing Ichigo deeper still, which in turn made her cries even more fervent. Her hands gripped his back, practically clawing him where before there had been only light embrace. The act didn't waylay Ichigo; if anything it stirred him to action. He started to thrust, slow and deep, while Tatsuki fought to get her breath and voice under control. Having been quite athletic all through her young life, she had long since lost her maidenhead. This had saved them both the inconvenience of the bleeding that came with one's first attempt at intercourse, but the force with which her pussy held him left no doubt that he was indeed her only thus far.

"Ichigo…" She gasped out, barely able to control her high-pitched sighs.

"Ssshhh…just focus on keeping up, Tatsuki…" He whispered directly into her ear, causing a shudder to pass through her body all over again. Nonetheless, she tried her best to slow her breathing and fully enjoy the ride to come. Ichigo was stretching her virgin slit almost to a point of pain, but the burn she felt was by no means unpleasant. She wouldn't have been able to ask him to stop if she had wanted him to.

His strokes were getting faster now, his grunts a little louder. The initial shock of the act had worn off and Tatsuki had regained her composure enough so that she had the sense to contribute her own thrusts to the effort, straining not to break out screaming once again. She wondered how thick the dojo walls were, and how many people would be out and about on a Sunday afternoon. And then she couldn't think clearly at all.

The burning that had been present in her loins for the past half hour or so now turned into a deep aching, a herald that she wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. It was alright, though; a few minutes of actual intercourse was all she could handle at present, and the foreplay had been so damned good…

Ichigo was in a similar predicament. He felt an enormous pressure building within him, and fight as he did, it wouldn't stay contained. _A good ride, though…A damned good ride…_

The two released together. Ichigo grunted in a low, husky voice, as Tatsuki let out the sexiest moan Ichigo had ever heard. The feeling of hot fluid rushing inside of her excited the young woman to the point of mashing her pelvis against his, while the extreme compression of her pussy made Ichigo's eyes roll to the back of his head. As soon as it had begun, the shared orgasm was over, and the two fell, once again on top of each other, onto the floor.

No words were spoken for a good ten minutes. Ichigo and Tatsuki contented themselves with laying beside one another, cooling off in the brisk autumn air as their gazes were fixed upon one another. Tatsuki's slate gray eyes looked deep into Ichigo's glimmering hazel ones, and just like before their little session, began to water.

"Tatsuki…" Ichigo began quietly.

"No, no, don't talk quite yet…I'm just enjoying the moment." She said, a small yet sincere smile working its way across her surprisingly delicate features as a single tear rolled down her cheek. Nothing needed said. She had finally gotten through to him, and him to her as well. She had him back, and then some. Nobody needed to shed tears anymore, and the very thought made Tatsuki's eyes overflow with joy. She didn't need his body every day any more than he needed hers. This act had taken their friendship to depths that she hadn't even imagined possible before the events of the afternoon, and both were ready to face whatever the future held for them.

"You know…I've always thought you were quite handsome, even though I never would have admitted it." Tatsuki finally said, breaking the silence. He seemed quite amused.

"Yes…I always thought that you wouldn't have any trouble getting a girl…or getting with a girl."

"You know that's not my top priority."

"Yeah, I guess I have. I guess I just always assumed you didn't need me as anything more than a friend…and subconsciously, that you didn't _want _me as anything more." She finished. Ichigo had no response for her this time.

"But I know now that it's not a girlfriend that you needed…It was just for somebody to show you that they cared. And if I care about you more than a friend typically would, so be it."

"So, you don't want to-"

"Go out with you? Of course I do…but we're both free spirits, Ichigo. I can't help feeling attracted to you, and there's no going back on what happened here; I don't want to, anyway. If anything, I want it to happen again and again." She said, not even the slightest tint creeping to her face.

"What are you getting at, Tatsuki?" Ichigo ventured forth, almost cautiously.

"Maybe…I'm not the only one for you. You have history with so many people, and whether you realize or not some of them have had feelings for you for quite some time…You need to make amends with them, as well."

"But what about-"

"I'll be here whenever you need me, Ichigo. There are a few people you need to see, one of them a very close friend of ours. But that can what until later. Why don't you put some clothes on and treat a girl after you've just ravished her?" She said, with a characteristic wink and a playful punch to the arm.

Ichigo felt a warm feeling spread through his chest. With a smile, he offered a hand to her.

"Anything for the first angel in my harem."


	2. Ginger SNAP

A frigid gust of wind swept through the streets of downtown Karakura. Blowing down alleyways and avenues, it picked up the leaves that gave Autumn its signature colors on its way to everyplace and no place at the same time. The sky overhead was open, vast, and piercingly blue, to the point where one looking at it could have their whole field of vision swallowed up like so much fodder in the maw of a dragon. Nature certainly was presenting a still-frame of Fall.

The city below wasn't as aesthetically pleasing. The holiday season not quite there, the many stores lining the sidewalks of this district hadn't yet put out their vivid displays and signs denoting a cut in prices. Only the everyday wares of sleepy-eyed shopkeepers confined to the poorer sectors lined the windows and shelves of the predominantly grey and beige structures that made up the block.

_What an ugly place…_Setting down her half-empty mug of hot chocolate, Orihime let her chin rest upon the arms crossed before her on her café table.

_I miss my old apartment…my old school…Seretei…even Hueco Mundo had a sense of beauty about it…_

The urban jungle was hardly a habitat for so exquisite a creature as Ms. Inoue. Since graduating from high school the young woman had made few significant decisions regarding her life direction, and consequently was currently attending the purgatory of community college. She had heard that life in downtown Karakura was dreary at best, but this…

_It's just. Plain. UGLY._

Shifting uncomfortably in the red vinyl of her booth, Orihime picked up the monstrous powdered donut she had ordered along with her cocoa. True, many things had changed over the past few months, but her insatiable sweet-tooth remained. However, this was the first time that she had found herself eating out of boredom, for lack of anything better to do. Before, she had eaten to celebrate, comfort herself or just try something new. It's commonly said that one shouldn't eat their feelings, but Orihime had, in fact, found them to be quite delicious. But this was different; she was eating simply because gnawing on a pastry was more interesting than anything else this desolate patch of concrete had to offer.

In truth, part of Orihime's utter disgust with her surroundings was the fact that it reflected her mood for the past several months. Ever since the affairs within Soul Society had quieted down, she herself had felt as bland and stagnant as the humdrum community she was locked into for the next couple of years. There was a type of grim satisfaction in realizing that one's life had come to an involuntary standstill, and being able to see everything clearly in the freeze frame of your life as it is, as it was, as it could have been…

_Not now…_She mentally admonished herself. The monotony of inner-city life placed enough strain on the poor girl's psyche as it was, and thinking of _him_ would only further her misery.

It was a Friday evening. Classes had been dismissed for the weekend; she should have been out with friends, making all the bad decisions that would make her college years so memorable. Or at least she would have, if she had the will (or even desire) to make said friends. The large, impersonal classes offered at KCC were a far-cry from the tight-knit, almost intimate settings that had been her experience through middle and high school. Perhaps she was just one of those people that would never quite adapt. Despite all of the regrets it was sure to cause her, Orihime clung to the memories of old friends she would hardly see now that they had gone separate directions.

Setting down her donut, not even half-eaten, she left enough money to cover the bill (tips require excellent service and a surplus of funds), put on her heavy, checker-patterned coat, and left the café that had served as her only regular haunt since the commencement of her post-grad education.

The first sensation she experienced upon opening the twin glass doors that led out of the establishment was that of the wind. The crisp autumn air rushed past her face, leaving just the faintest trace of a chill that warned of colder times ahead. She closed her eyes, savoring the feeling of it flowing playfully past her. If she commuted back to the quaint suburbs of her childhood, she would be able to feel the same breeze in the same manner. Little moments such as these fed and continued her addiction to nostalgia, but all the same made her feel more alive than most other things available.

And then she opened her eyes. The familiar drabness of the humble shops and residences she reluctantly called home were there to greet her, like an overbearing and homely cousin. She felt exposed at that moment, as if she was being judged. The red and black inlay of her overcoat stood defiantly against the slates and tans around her, and although she would normally have savored this minute rebellion, something about the spectacle reminded her of just how lonely and small she really felt. A dab of color among a city of tombstones, doomed to be snuffed out by disapproving stoics.

All of a sudden much less able to enjoy the moment, Orihime ducked her head against the wind and hurried home. Nobody paid her much mind; nobody was around to. The only sounds indicating human presence on the block was the soft scuff of Orihime's sneakers upon the cracked sidewalk of the development. Other than herself, the only noise to be heard was the rustling of the leaves and the whistling of the wind. It was an astoundingly forlorn experience.

A short walk down the unkempt streets brought the young woman to her place of residence. A bulky, towering brick structure; Its muddy red was the only color she could see on the cityscape for miles around. Fumbling through her enormous, black-leather purse she came up with a jumble of keys, and with some effort discerned which one granted her access to the building. The lock mechanism turned with a _click_, and she entered into the housing complex with a feeling bordering on defeat.

_Well, I've succeeded in throwing away yet another weekend…_She mused silently as she trudged up the stairway towards her room on the eighth floor. Despite how unhappy she was, Orihime couldn't bring herself to be proactive in her situation. There was just so much…unfinished business, in her heart. She felt as if it were iron chains that wrapped around her continually, and try as she might the weight was always there, exhausting her in the face of opportunity with what could have been, what she had wanted so desperately to happen.

She reached her own apartment, and after a couple of seconds of deliberation produced the key to it. It opened with a familiar creak, and she stood before the two-room apartment that she had come to know and despise over the past couple of months.

Typical for collegiate housing, it was a cheap-looking labor of love. Although the white-washed walls had long since lost their brilliance, no wallpaper had been put up. The odd water stain here and there reminded Orihime that she had four floors of mediocre construction above her, lest she forget where she was. A few womanly touches here and there, to be sure; this was her nest to keep up, after all, but when a bird has to use garbage as material…

Old and gauged tile coated the floor, lusterless and half concealed by a large rug she had bought solely for that purpose. The bed, her own, was the only thing that looked clean and new in this room. _And probably this whole building._ She thought bitterly.

A dresser held what clothes she had decided to bring with her an arm's length away from the bed, with a couple of family photos (her and Sora) displayed. Her heavier attire hung on hooks installed on the main and bathroom doors.

_Speaking of which…_Orihime closed the door behind her and distributed her coat onto it, quietly as not to disgruntle her many neighbors. _But of course they all have something to DO tonight…_She just couldn't seem to cut herself any breaks lately. With a sigh of resignation she flopped onto her bed, one of the only things that gave her consistent comfort. The thought only deepened her mood.

_I should have people to make me happy, not things._ She thought briefly back to Tatsuki and her other friends from high school, how much she missed having friends to pass her days with. Frustrated, she closed the blinds above her bed and buried her face into a pillow. She wouldn't cry; she'd had enough of that recently. But she was determined to remain miserable for however long it took for things to line themselves up. _I tried so hard to make things happen…I tried to get stronger and only got in the way. I tried to help in the war effort but ended up wrapped up in Aizen's little plot. I tried to tell __**him**__ how I felt, and could never summon the courage…_

Groaning, she let her body go slack and lay in a heap on her mattress. _I give up; I'll stay in AGAIN this weekend._

Suddenly a sound started emitting from her purse, left by the closed door in her haste to go nowhere. At first she couldn't identify it, but quickly recognized it as a tune she had come up with. _My old Do, Re, Mi song…_ She reflected back on the time she had spent inventing it, before remembering what it meant.

"A call!" She said aloud, not anticipating that she would be so excited. She hadn't received a phone call in weeks; the aunt that funded her college education rarely talked to her and would text to ask how she was doing once in a while, but everybody was so busy with their future plans that no time seemed to have been put aside for regular interaction. Although it could have easily just been a telemarketer, Orihime didn't care. Just the thought of having an intelligent exchange with _someone_ broke the downcast fog surrounding her. Even more so when she saw the name of he caller.

"Tatsuki!" She practically screamed. Unable to contain herself, she started bouncing up and down in place, letting the phone ring for a good fifteen seconds before she had composed herself enough to answer it.

"H-hello?" She squawked, bubbling over, holding the flip-phone with both hands.

"Hey, Orihime." Was all she got in response. Orihime could physically feel her heart sink at her friend's tone.

"Oh, Tatsuki, is that you?" She answered back, downplaying her excitement. She could be dead wrong, but Tatsuki's voice whispered of something foul on the way.

"Yeah, it's me." The other continued, the low inflection she spoke with spoiling the would-be tender moment. For almost a minute neither spoke, and the tension forming even via phone-call was palpable to the two young women. "I…I need to talk to you about some things. Is it alright if I come by for a visit?"

Orihime's heartbeat picked up once again. _A visit?_ She repeated Tatsuki's phrase in her head, elated. That was, before she remembered the context their conversation was in.

"A visit? S-sounds good…what things did you want to talk about?"

"It's better if we discuss them in person."

"Alright…when did you plan on coming?"

"Well…now…"

A car horn sounded out on the street corner, causing Orihime to rush to her window and look out onto the block. Parked in front of her apartment complex was a black SUV that she couldn't say she recognized, although her gut told her just who it belonged to.

"Is that…"

"Yeah, it's me. Sorry for popping up, but…it's really important."

After a moment's pause, and a nervous churning in her chest, Orihime took a deep breath and said:

"Well, come on in! I'll buzz you up."

"Ok…I'll be up in a second."

_Click._ The call was ended. Orihime's head was swimming. What could be so important that Tatsuki would swing by unannounced and miles away from home just to share? Nervously she looked around her room, trying to distract herself with what needed tidied in the thirty seconds before her childhood friend would see her living space.

_**BEEP.**_ The "bell" that indicated someone attempting to gain entry blared from the small speaker situated just above her doorframe.

_Crap…_She thought to herself. Bustling over to the small intercom hanging to the right of the entryway, Orihime hurriedly tapped the button that would unlock the building's main entrance. _Alright, alright…just calm down…_ Her attempts at reassurance only made her mind race with all of the negative possibilities that could unfold from Tatsuki's words.

She could hear faint footsteps ascending the narrow stairway that led up to her apartment. What was odd is that she could discern more than one person coming up. Probably just the middle-aged owner of the boarding house, making sure his prized customers weren't being visited by those without innocent intentions. _Or not…_She thought with distaste, calling up an image of the squat, grey haired man who hunched over a game of virtual solitaire all day, ignoring anyone without a check in hand.

Lost in her irate introspection, Orihime failed to notice the growing volume of the footsteps, and physically jerked her body back into reality upon hearing a timid knocking upon her door. Caught by surprise, she stood frozen for a moment or two, before a quiet "Hello?" from the other side stirred her to action.

Stumbling over her own feet in nervous anticipation, she proceeded to turn the dull brass knob of her apartment's door to reveal Tatsuki awaiting her in the cramped hallway that lay beyond. Casting a furtive glance sideways, her visitor tentatively raised her hand in greeting, giving a small yet genuine smile upon seeing her best friend for the first time in two months.

"Hi, Hime…It's been too long." Tatsuki said hoarsely.

"Yes. Yes it has." Orihime responded, sounding unintentionally formal. "Much too long." She continued, trying with limited success to add a layer of sincerity to her words. A long pause followed. "Would you like to come in?" She ventured forth, trying to sound casual. _Shit._ She silently cursed. _I'm butchering our heartfelt reunion…_If it was at all possible to think sarcastically, she was well on her way to achieving it.

Seeming to perk up slightly at the invitation, Tatsuki widened her smile as she responded:

"I'd love to." And with that she took that ice-breaking step into Orihime's apartment. As soon as she gained entry, the tension in the air seemed to disappear like a rubber band stretched to its limits that had broken and flown off to some unseen corner of the room. Both visibly relaxed as Tatsuki closed the door behind her. Turning around and surveying the scene before her, she still seemed to be avoiding direct eye contact with her host.

"It's a really nice place you have here…" She trailed off, trying to put some substance behind her voice as the words came out dry and frail.

"I try my best…" Orihime responded. After a moment of deliberation, she went on: "There aren't really any places to sit in here except for my bed." She said, almost blankly. It was becoming apparent just how unsuited to guests her living quarters actually were.

"It's all right…we used to hang out in your room all the time; I don't mind." Tatsuki began to think back to the good old days where visits to her red-headed princess hadn't felt forced and out of place. The memories put her mind at ease, to a degree. "It can be just like old times, huh?"

"Y-yeah." The other girl herself seemed to be getting her feelings under control.

Closing the short distance between where she was standing and her bed that was tucked into a corner of the room, Orihime took her seat, the worn springs groaning in protest as she did so. Gingerly, she smiled and softly patted the area next to her, indicating her guest's place of honor.

Tatsuki made her way over and softly lowered herself in place, sitting slouched and staring at her folded hands before her. After yet another awkward silence, Orihime ventured forth:

"So…what was on your mind?" She asked the question as if she was attempting to disarm a landmine, despite it's obvious precedence. Sighing, Tatsuki responded without averting her downcast gaze.

"Hime…I'm sorry that I haven't kept in touch…"

Taken back, the addressed merely blinked a few times, squeezing out "Tatsuki", before her friend went on, seemingly heedless of her feedback.

"A lot's happened within these past couple months, some of it pertaining to you. I might have been able to go on by myself and enjoy some of the things that have passed my way, but I would never be able to forgive myself if I didn't clear the air between us…"

Orihime could feel a nervous lump rising in her throat.

"What do you-"

"You can come in now." Tatsuki interjected again, spoken much too loudly to be directed at the person right next to her. Orihime was completely lost, until the sound of footsteps outside her apartment ensued once again, and she realized who had been accompanying Tatsuki up the stairwell. Standing in her doorframe, fiery orange hair and all, was none other than Ichigo Kurosaki.

Yelping, she jumped back, nearly banging her head against the wall bordering her bedside.

"I-I-Ichigo!" She spurted out, hands trembling as she vainly attempted to smooth out the wrinkles in her skirt, which had ridden up by a few inches in her spastic recoil. "What brings you here?" She asked, her voice just a few notches too loud.

The young man's eyes widened at the spectacle, the rich amber within them shining as he searched for an appropriate response.

"We have news to share, Hime." Tatsuki answered for him. The lump within Orihime's throat was growing steadily.

Putting his hands in the pockets of his kakis, Ichigo stepped out into the center of the room. Orihime couldn't help but stare at the man before her. And indeed, what a man he had grown into. Even taller than she remembered, he towered upwards toward six feet, and even the brown turtleneck he had on couldn't hide the definition of his muscular form underneath. Unlike Tatsuki, he met her eyes with his own, and while it made her heartbeat double, Orihime couldn't break the eye contact they were sharing.

"Well…let's not delay." She squeaked out, giving Ichigo a shy grin and weakly gesturing towards the free space on her right side, opposite of Tatsuki. As he approached the bed, her head seemed to experience at least a dozen thoughts simultaneously.

_What's he doing here? What's he doing here with Tatsuki? Damn, he looks so handsome…Dear God, did I really invite him to sit RIGHT NEXT TO ME?!_

Before she could sort through the jumble of consciousness racing through her she could feel a shift in pressure on the mattress to her right, and all mental activity ceased as she slowly turned her head to see Ichigo staring silently at her. She could feel color rushing to her cheeks and her throat was so dry it felt as if she had eaten a sleeve of Saltines. She was saved by the soft touch of Tatsuki's hand on her own.

"Hime, we have something that you need to hear, but you need to trust us and listen through the whole thing, alright?"

Turning to meet the gaze of her childhood friend, Orihime found reassurance in seeing that Tatsuki was just as nervous about what was about to happen as she was.

"I promise." She said, with the widest, realest smile she had managed in months. Receiving a bright smile from her friend in response, Orihime let her heart rate slow and braced herself. Surprisingly, it was Ichigo who spoke up.

"About a week ago something went down that you need to know about." He said calmly, not a twitch on his composed features. Orihime simply nodded and waited for him to continue. "Between…us." He went on, indicating Tatsuki.

"Did you guys…have a falling out?" She asked meekly, attempting to contribute.

"Not…exactly…" Ichigo replied, telltale color creeping up his neck.

"Oh…did you guys do something without me…?" The unpleasant churning sensation returned to the girl, and she almost regretted her desire to know what was going on.

"Somewhat…Tatsuki and I…realized something that day." He said, struggling to find the right words. "We…"

"Orihime, Ichigo and I have feelings for each other." Tatsuki blurted, her grip on Orihime's hand tightening. Ichigo briefly glanced at Tatsuki, clearly distraught, before resuming his conversation with the other.

"It's…true. Things happened that landed us in a certain situation, and…well…"

Orihime was speechless. Something about the information she had just been presented with just wouldn't register. Ichigo, the man she had been, and still was, hopelessly in love with, and Tatsuki, her best friend since middle school…together? _No. There's something I'm missing. Is it my birthday? Are they just playing some elaborate joke on me? It can't be…Tatsuki wouldn't betray me like that…Would she?_

Turning to look once more upon Tatsuki, she gave a look that implored further explanation. When her friend only looked sheepishly away, hot tears started building up in the corners of her eyes. She had no idea how to feel. On the one hand, her two favorite people in the world had found happiness, but on the other…

"It's not fair." She whispered. Tears ran down, dripping off of her nose onto the carpet. "It's just not fair. I…I've loved you all of these years, Ichigo. I've tried so hard to make it apparent. I would have died for you…and in my next life been just as crazy for you." Ichigo's eyes widened at this statement, and he was visibly struggling to manage a response.

"Orihime…I know how you felt about him-" Tatsuki began.

"Did you? Did you know all of the nights I stayed up, miserable that I couldn't tell him how I felt but overjoyed to be a character in his life, anyway? Do you really know how much pain is in my heart from trying to leave him behind over these past few months? Do you?" Tatsuki was silent. "And now, just as I've began to simmer down, to let all of it go, you two show up stating that you got together just on a whim? How is that fair? And you know what? I want to be happy for you two, but I can't get over my own selfish obsession!" She finished at a shout, rising abruptly from her spot among the white linens as she prepared to storm out of her own apartment. That was before two separate pairs of hands grasped her arms from behind.

Orihime looked back at Ichigo and Tatsuki, who were just as surprised by each other's actions as she was. Ichigo had a firm but gentle grip on her slender wrist, and Tatsuki's trembling hands had her tightly at the forearm.

"We…we aren't done, yet." Tatsuki said, barely audible as the three stared at one another, shocked. "But…I think Ichigo can handle it from here." And with that, she stood up and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. Orihime didn't hear steps descending the building, so she assumed Tatsuki was waiting right outside the door. Slowly, she let her gaze meet Mr. Kurosaki's, trying her best not to hyperventilate at the combined eye and skin contact.

"Hey." She said tentatively, tears drying but with a face the color of a tomato.

"Hi." Ichigo responded, a small, nervous smile playing out on his rugged features.

Wordlessly, she resumed her seat right next to him, silently noting that her thigh was now brushing up against his. Her hysteria at Tatsuki's revelation was voided by the prospect of a one-on-one with the love of her life, whoever he may have belonged to.

"So…" Orihime let out, having not the slightest clue how to begin their discussion.

"So…" Ichigo said back, knowing what to say but scared out of his mind to bring it up. A very long pause ensued, the two searching each other's eyes for some nugget of insight that would relieve the tension of the moment.

"Tatsuki and I…we hooked up. We were sparring, and things got a little heated between us. We said some things that let the situation escalate, and it all came out at once. Neither one of us knew completely what was going on."

"You…hooked up? As in…?"

"Yes."

"Ah. I see." Now that the cloud of anger hanging over her had dissipated, Orihime could only identify the feeling within her as defeat. Ichigo had swept a girl off of her feet in a fit of wild romanticism, and it had not been her.

"But that's not all there was to it." Ichigo continued, and her ears perked up at this tidbit of information.

"Well, what more could there be?" She asked, her voice flat and emotionless.

"We had an…interesting discussion afterwards." Ichigo went on, hesitantly. He had started to blush once more.

"About what?" Orihime asked, a note of curiosity peppered into her words.

"Well…Tatsuki and I have feelings for each other. That much we know, but…it was rather spontaneous. I mean, they had been almost completely repressed up until that moment. I guess we just realized just how good of friends we were, or…maybe that we were supposed to be something more."

Orihime listened intently. This was Ichigo, after all. Hearing him pour out the contents of his heart would always make her swoon, even if what laid therein wasn't what she had hoped. Sad though she was, she couldn't break her addiction.

"But…we aren't boyfriend and girlfriend. At least…not yet."

Orihime's heart skipped a beat.

"We talked…about a lot of things…about you, about other people…I've been so stupid, Orihime. I've failed to realize just how much I mean to those around me. To…you."

"Ichigo…" The nervous churning in her chest had turned to an erratic fluttering. Could this really be headed in the direction she thought?

"Orihime…I want to know what you want. From your own two lips. I'm willing to give it a shot, but I need to know." He gave her his warmest smile as he gently took her hand. "Whatever you want."

No words came to Orihime at first. She was too overcome with elation and shock to summon up any verbal reaction. Of all the things Ichigo had just said, that smile and the reassuring grip of his strong, calloused fingers on hers was what made her head swirl and her eyes glisten.

"I…I want…you." Her hand clasped his back. "Ichigo…I could never resent you. You've always been there for me. You even…died for me, once. And came back. I would do the same for you five times over, and nothing, not even the heart of another girl, will change that." Tears once again streaked over her delicate features. However, these were shed in joy. Ichigo felt a familiar feeling spread throughout his body. That warmth, that satisfaction…yes, it was the same as he had felt with Tatsuki the week before, and since. He could definitely love this girl. The stage was set, the actors ready; all he needed do was commence the next act. Without thinking, he made that call. He closed his eyes and leaned forward.

At first, he thought his decision was ill-met. He received no response from the girl in front of him, and when he broke the kiss all he could see was her staring at him, wide-eyed.

"Did-did you…just…"

"Yeah…I hope you'll forgive me…I just thought it was the right time…"

Before he could explain further, he felt two hands close around the sides of his face and bring him in once again. He felt her full, soft lips press against his, and the heat that had rushed to her face radiated off in waves. If kissing Tatsuki had produced sparks, this was a roaring blaze threatening to engulf both of them. The kiss lasted for well over a minute, the two sitting transfixed by each other's touch, and all too soon their lips parted. Ichigo stared deeply into her quicksilver eyes, unable to comprehend how he had been so dense as to miss these feelings for so long.

"Orihime…"

"Ichigo…It will never be the wrong time for that." She said, resting her head on his chest. "You have no idea how happy I am right now…I don't care if I have to share you with Tatsuki, with Yoruichi, hell, half of the Seretei…as long as we can share moments like these I don't care…I love you, Ichigo."

Ichigo didn't know what to say. He knew that he would come to love her in time, but he didn't want to make any leaps that would result in broken legs…

"Orihime, I-"

"It's okay, you don't have to tell me anything. Just show me." She whispered, and brought her lips up to meet his once again. Orihime couldn't believe what she was doing; this was just like a dream. A gloriously unlikely dream. In fact, she wouldn't be surprised to wake up staring at her bland apartment ceiling soon. But all that mattered at the moment was him, his touch, his heart…

She craned her neck as she attempted to make their contact as passionate as she could. No longer a passive kiss, she could feel the opening and closing of their mouths as the sweet taste of their intimacy seeped onto her tongue. It was all she could do not to insert her tongue completely, if she didn't still have a shred of modesty about her. Instead, she contented herself to let her hands sink to the sides of his neck as she pulled him in, ever tighter in their embrace.

Ichigo's own hands found his partner's body, gently gripping the sensual curves of her waist as he leaned into her waiting lips. The white V-neck she was wearing was quite form-fitting, and had left a few inches of her supple form exposed as she had moved about on the bed. The skin underneath had the smoothness and color of porcelain, but was so irresistibly soft and warm at the same time…

The feeling of Ichigo's hands upon her bare skin sent ecstatic tremors through the young woman's body, and she broke the kiss to let out an airy sigh onto Ichigo's neck.

"Oh! I'm sorry, Ichigo…I just…" Without a word Ichigo seized the opportunity, fixing his lips not to her own, but to the vivacious white of her neck, accentuated by the lustrous red hair that framed it. "Oh…oohh…" She trailed off, eyes closing as she savored the feeling. She brought one hand up to clasp the back of his head, fingers clenching the tousled orange hair as she fell back onto the white sheets of the bed, unable to think of what laid ahead, but knowing that something wonderful was just around the corner.

Ichigo was directly over her now, his elbows resting on the mattress to either side of her, and Orihime was half-sure she would have a couple of nice little marks on her neck when their time together came to a close. The prospect made her shiver in anticipation.

He could feel every subtle nuance that passed through her. "Am I going to fast?" He asked, touching his brow to hers and searching her eyes for signs of second thoughts. _Did it just get warmer in here?_ She mused silently. The sweat beading on their foreheads suggested as much. She giggled, told him it was nothing to worry about, and once again kissed him, keeping her hand behind his head as their lips mingled. Ichigo let himself down onto the bed, resting on his side to the right of his princess as he lost himself in the intensity of the moment. He let his hands snake around her waist to grip the small of her back, slipping under her shirt as he did so. The action caused Orihime to bite his lower lip in excitement.

She muttered a seductively insincere apology as their kiss deepened, and she could swear she felt his tongue running over where she had nipped…or possibly over her own lips…It was definitely getting hotter, and in more ways than one.

As a matter of fact, Ichigo sat up, clasped the edges of his turtleneck and removed the heavy garment, casting it to the floor and revealing the plain white tee underneath. The way the folds clung to his chest made Orihime stare all over again, which made both involved blush. Giving a shy smile, Orihime made a "come hither" gesture with her finger and her lover complied, resuming his place by her side as he started trailing kisses down her neck. Emboldened by the attention he had received, he continued his downward path until his lips were right below her collarbone, rising and falling with the heaving of her breath. Ichigo stopped dead in his tracks. In his passion he had overlooked one thing. Well, two, really…

Pulling his lips away and retreating a foot or so, Ichigo's face turned a beet-red as the realization hit him like a freight train. He'd forgotten about one of Orihime's most prominent features: her enormous bust. And here he was, about to…to…

"What is it, Ichigo?" The girl asked timidly, thinking she had done wrong. Her question was answered as she noticed that, for perhaps the first time, Ichigo's eyes were fixed to her breasts. The low-cut shirt she had donned that day showed a healthy amount of cleavage, and besides that, the time she was spending with Ichigo made her large nipples stand out through the thin white fabric, even through her bra.

Orihime's face, as well, turned a lovely shade of scarlet, as she stuttered and tried to cover her arousal.

"Uh-uh-I-I-oh…" She averted her gaze from the young man suspended over her and bit her lip in embarrassment. Now, with Tatsuki Ichigo had been able to work past his virgin caution and slide right into heavier foreplay, but this…this was the real deal.

"Wow…" Was all he could utter, as he stared unblinking at the solid G-cup before him. His comment caused Orihime to open one eye and look sheepishly up at him. In truth, she had always thought that her plus-sized chest indicated excess weight, and was more self-conscious about it than most women with no substance at all.

"You…you like them?" She asked meekly.

"Well…um…yes." Ichigo said incredulously. Suffice to say he had noticed before, but his close-up with the girl had made him forget about her impressive endowment, and this was like rediscovery of the Titanic for him. "How could you think otherwise?" He asked, genuinely curious as to how she could be worried when she was obviously a head above the competition. With almost a shocked expression on her face, the girl reassessed her bust. True, she couldn't see her feet, but…could it really have such an affect on Ichigo?_ Well, if he likes it…_ Orihime felt some of the color drain from her cheeks as she gained some much-needed sexual confidence.

"Would you mind closing your eyes for a moment?" She asked, a grin spreading across her fair, round face. Ichigo did as he was bidden. After half a minute or so of hearing the sheets below him rustle, he heard "Okay, you can open them now…" and beheld the spectacle before him.

Sitting up beside him once again was Orihime, minus the white tee that had constricted her voluptuous form thus far. The brassiere underneath was clean and colorless as well, but even in its own considerable size failed to conceal the erotic contour of her breasts. Ichigo could hardly breathe, much less comment, and he was now fully aware of the pressure building against his zipper. A sly grin, the first he had seen of its kind on her, played devilishly across her otherwise innocent features.

"You like them now?" She asked playfully, an eyebrow cocked. Ichigo could only nod in either approval or agreement (he didn't know which), as once again she leaned forward to tug at the bottom of his own shirt. He got the message, and removed it posthaste. Orihime's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets not only as she saw his bare, chiseled chest, but as she realized just what it was she was getting herself into. _Is it really me doing this? It's so…dirty…I don't want to like it but this side of me has been waiting to come out for so long…_

Her train of thought was interrupted by a muscular set of arms wrapping around her half-naked body, and Ichigo's handsome, angular face looking down upon hers. For a moment the sheepish schoolgirl that had held sway attempted to regain control, as she blushed and couldn't seem to articulate any further tantalization. However, she could discern another identity making a stand: one that knew what she wanted and how to get it. She could feel herself growing wet in his embrace, and something needed to be done to alleviate these maddening urges.

Trailing her finger off of his chin, Orihime once again fell back onto the mattress, arms crossed over her stomach to accent the epic cleavage already present. A thrall to his mistress's desire, Ichigo lifted one leg over her to straddle his anxious partner, and lowered himself until his chest was tightly pressed against hers. Gently running his tongue over her lower lip, he whispered to her: "Anything you want; just ask."

Despite the heat in the room Orihime found herself getting goose-bumps over her neck and arms. _Anything?_ Running her hands up to wrap around his midsection, she took his tongue with her own as he rocked back and forth overtop of her. Despite the growing harlot within her, she knew that it would be Ichigo who would ultimately take the lead; part of being her knight in shining armor, after all. She always did wonder what "happily ever after" entailed…

Moaning softly into his lips, Orihime let one of her hands run up and down his toned back, and devoted the other towards exploring her own body. She could feel her nipples standing clearly out against the soft fabric of her bra, and slipped her hand underneath to test out its sensitivity. Even the light brush of her fingertips against it made the large, pink patch harden considerably, and she sighed in satisfaction, her hot breath running over Ichigo's face and neck. And so it went, the two entwined in a tender kiss as the girl fondled herself to ever higher peaks of arousal.

Ichigo couldn't have enjoyed himself any more. Whereas he felt he could trust Tatsuki with anything, including his virginity, Orihime was a whole different animal altogether. Tatsuki had been firm and toned, where Orihime was as smooth and soft as silk all over. She didn't have the muscle definition of Ichigo's karate queen, but her lovely curves were so full and accented that one wouldn't have to look twice to know just how much of a gorgeous figure the young lady had. Ribbons of auburn hair splayed out below her, making her lily complexion stand out gracefully as she let herself get caught up in their throes of passion. Everything about her was so feminine, so delicate that Ichigo found himself appreciating her much like a fine piece of art. However, the paint would melt right off of a portrait if it was emanating the heat which was raging within Orihime. Even through the girl's flannel skirt Ichigo could feel the intensity with which her sex yearned for him. His member stood out almost painfully against the tight kaki pants he was wearing. As much as he wanted to remain locked in Orihime's arms, something had to give.

Luckily, it was his partner that took the initiative. Wanting to wrap her legs around his waist but unable to do so because of her knee-length skirt, she gently broke the kiss and rolled over to get some space. Laying on her stomach and watching him the whole time, she took the band of her skirt and tugged downward, wiggling her butt in a cute yet no so innocent fashion as she disrobed. As the green and red material slid over her long, shapely legs Ichigo had to fight the urge to curse out loud at the sight unfolding before him.

While Orihime's greatest asset was undoubtedly her chest, he couldn't help but admire what she was packing down below, as well. The way her hour-glass shape melded seamlessly into a full, round ass made him so hard it hurt, and while she didn't prefer thongs as did Tatsuki, the white panties that clung perfectly to her were quite sexy in their own right. Propping herself up on her elbows, she gave Ichigo a sunny, inviting smile that made his own heart skip a beat. Here was the sweetest girl he had ever known, barely clad and sprawled before him in waiting. Sex appeal aside…

_She's just. Plain. BEAUTIFUL. _Ichigo knew that he'd be in physical pain soon if he didn't free up some space in his groin. Kicking off his loafers, he unbuttoned himself and undid the fly. Orihime's smile turned into a face of anticipation as he rolled onto his back and pulled his pants up over his head. When he sat back up he noticed that his lover had a curled finger clenched between her teeth as she observed his near-nudity. Never a braggart, color rushed to his face he realized that his pair of black boxer-briefs did little to conceal his lust for her.

Orihime couldn't help but stare at the sizeable bulge threatening to poke through the front folds of his underwear. Assuming he was at full size, she could look forward to a thorough deflowering. She had heard that your first time hurt, and a larger member only intensified the experience, but this was her dream come true. She would be a trooper if it meant she could lose her virginity to Ichigo, the way she had secretly hoped for all of these years.

Before she could get up to embrace him once more, her berry-headed lover was on the move, straddling her again, from behind this time. Orihime gasped at his advance, turning her head to look at him. She saw not a devilish grin or animalistic concentration, but a welcoming smile and a glow in his eyes that instantly put her nervous soul at rest. Relaxing her body, she let her back curve down once more into the cool white sheets of her bed.

Letting his own weight settle upon her, Ichigo relished the feeling of his body against hers. He could feel his arousal pressing into her ass, and it made him want to have already been inside of her; if he had been more attentive he could have seen the wetness creeping back from her dripping slit. He gently brushed the hair off of the back of her neck to plant a series of warm, moist kisses there as his hands continued on to snake around her torso and cup the soft mounds of flesh pressed against her mattress. She gasped once more, but not in surprise or distress. Having Ichigo grip her so sensually set both her mind and her pussy afire.

"Ichigooo…" She let out his name on a groan.

"Yes, Hime?" He whispered into her ear. The use of her pet-name from such a person elicited yet another shudder throughout her body. Ichigo, now a little bit wiser to the workings of women, didn't misinterpret it this time around. Tightening his hold on her breasts ever so softly, he began to move back and forth, grinding against her rear as his lips worked their magic upon her exposed neck and shoulders. A steady stream of quiet moans emanated from his ecstatic partner, and she, too, applied pressure where it counted. She could feel her panties shifting up and down with the erotic motion of their lower bodies. Whenever Ichigo took a short break from the attention he gave her with his mouth, he gazed down at their point of contact, seeing the crack of Orihime's ass protruding just an inch or two above the hem of her underwear, which drove him crazy for reasons he couldn't quite explain.

The vigor with which he ground against her and squeezed her chest steadily increased over that sinfully pleasurable lapse of time. Ichigo could clearly feel the firm, erect nipples underneath Orhime's bra, and yearned to slip his hands underneath for a more intimate touch. He could feel the moisture of his lady's already soaked panties thickening and spreading onto his own undergarments. He could hear every subtlety of Orihime's sighs, moans and gasps as they escaped her. His senses seemed intensified in this heightened state of arousal, and he simply couldn't get enough of his voluptuous lover.

Orihime, meanwhile, was biting back to urge to cry out. Her nipples brushed against the fabric of her brassiere, almost painfully, such was her excitement. Her crotch was drenched, and every stroke Ichigo made brought him a little closer to the intense heat that awaited him. Stifled sounds came from her, not belaying the screams and curses she wanted to utter in the midst of their love-making. The grinding motion had, by now, become full-on dry-humping, and Orihime's underwear were now fixed squarely beneath her ass, having been tugged down in the process. Of course, she was the only one aware, for Ichigo's were still on (unfortunately). A wicked idea forming, Orihime planned to change that very soon.

Digging her elbows into the bed beneath her, she pushed her ass upward and outward against him, pinning his cock back against his thigh. Continuing on in her little plot, she slid her backside forward, making sure to rub the smooth, exposed skin against his midsection, and to pull his briefs down by a few inches on her way back. Ichigo's breath caught in his throat, even more so when the young lady turned her head to give him a longing gaze as she bit her lower lip. He couldn't take it anymore. If he didn't have her he was going to lose his mind.

"Orihime…I need you…"

"Oh, Ichigo, I was worried you'd never ask." Even though spoken in the context of their passion the words still held true. This was the culmination of all her hard work and heartache for longer than she cared to remember. Staying beneath him, she rolled back over to face him directly. She placed her hands softly on the sides of his neck and gave him a long, tender kiss before looking into his eyes and saying: "I'm ready." No more was needed.

The two pulled apart briefly, taking their places next to each other as they shed their final articles of clothing. Ichigo's boxers hit the floor in a small heap as Orihime kicked off her own soaked underwear. The brisk air that circulated through the room, even with closed windows, collided with the liquid heat of her womanhood, making her close her legs tightly as goose-bumps spread over her supple frame. As she grew accustomed to the slight chill in the air, she could also feel a warm pair of hands snaking up her back. Ichigo, unclothed, was on his knees behind her, his fingers undoing the hooks of her bra. Having forgotten about in anticipation of exposing her most private areas, she gave a quaint smile and nodded her head in thanks. She had the feeling that no matter how much she took off it would soon be stifling between the two of them. Her breasts barely moved at all when the white article was cast aside, which frankly amazed Ichigo. To think that they could support their erotic shape despite their massive size made almost made Ichigo regret coming to intercourse so soon; he had loved teasing Tatsuki's perky teats, but the possibilities Orihime presented…

"Ichigo…" The sound of her voice snapped the addressed back into the moment. Giving a wide, sincere grin and a reassuring nod he laid her down once more as he took his place over her. His member was throbbing, begging to be engulfed in Orihime's steaming essence. Her legs spread to wrap around his waist as they had meant to before, and her virgin slit was mere inches away from the consummation of their budding romance. Ichigo hooked his arms under Orihime's shoulders, and she followed suite, their eyes locked the entire time. Pressing his brow to hers and closing his eyes, Ichigo thrust forward into her waiting lips.

It was more than she could take. Orihime screamed out in pain and pleasure, her seal breaking and a small amount of blood mixing with her fluids. It was so tight, and Ichigo so large…she couldn't stand the intensity but at the same time relished it. Ichigo hesitated, but a vigorous shaking of her head cued him to plow on. And that he did, but as slowly and gently as his body would allow. Between a string of curses, utterances of his name and words he couldn't fully understand he could discern that Orihime was almost to the point of being overloaded and worried as to if she would be able to catch her breath during the short breaks she would give herself. Whenever he wanted to stop, a slight thrust on her part would beg him not to, and despite his concern for her he did.

After a few minutes of this frenetic behavior Orihime had seemed to gain some degree of composure. Her breathing was deep and she still let loose Ichigo's name between her whimpers and moans, but she was no longer in pain, and was ready to commence their love-making in earnest. She was able to open her eyes, and though they glistened with unshed tears there was no fear or torment in them. He felt a warm feeling spreading through his chest, but couldn't ignore the warm feeling that surrounded his cock. Kissing Orihime much more gently than he could take her, he started to move deeper and deeper into her cunt as her inner walls squeezed him like some sort of deathtrap. Tatsuki had had it more easy; her foreskin had been shed on its own long before Ichigo had gotten there. But this was a labor of love, not lust, and she would persevere for the man she loved.

Despite this, Orihime was far too distracted by the penetration of her womanhood to make out with Ichigo as attentively as she would have liked. Her deep sighs, involuntary oaths and tiny yelps that accompanied his strokes broke their lips apart too frequently for them to get a good rhythm going. Orihime would apologize when this happened, but was powerless to stop her inner harlot. Ichigo, however, didn't falter in this shortcoming. Acting on his previous desire, he let one hand come out from under his mistress to grip her right breast at the base and squeeze, eliciting a gasp on her part as the firm white mound adhered to his hand. Wrapping his remaining arm around her trunk as to keep the beat of his strokes in time, Ichigo lowered his head to run his tongue in small circles over her large, pink nipple. If it had been cold out, there was no way to tell at this point.

"Mmmph!" Orihime stifled yet another cry as her lover doubly stimulated her gorgeous body, and much to both her surprise and his he cocked his upward to give a quick wink before returning to his work. Her hands splayed out between his shoulder blades as she arched her back and fought to contain herself. Ichigo's member was giving her a good stretch, and she didn't know which head of his was doing the better job. She tried not to focus to much on one sensation, lest she release too quickly.

Ichigo had found that he actually enjoyed Orihime's considerable chest quite a bit, in spite of his admonishing of people like Keigo who seemed to think of them as a second, and more important face. He had begun to gently suck on her, keeping his tongue fixed on her ever-hardening nipple. He felt he would be able to bury his face in her bust if he wanted to, and the prospect made his erection quiver within her. Detaching his mouth with a small _pop_, he pinched the moistened bud between his thumb and index finger as he planted a kiss on the one to the left. He could feel her chest heaving as he continued to please her, and silently wished for an extra set of hands, so that he could run his fingertips along all of her at once. All the while, the pace of his thrusts quickened as he ventured further into his deflowered princess.

No longer content to lay and let all of the attention fall upon her, Orihime did her best to reciprocate the naughty gestures, wrapping her right arm around her lover's head and pulling him into her chest (fulfilling his unspoken desire) and letting the other snake down to briefly grope his ass. However, she retracted it soon after, as she wanted to contribute towards the main attraction. Oddly enough, all pain had subsided, and even though Ichigo's girth spread her to the point of making her want to cry out, the intensity wasn't at all unpleasant. She found that she could even clench her womanhood around him to a certain point, earning a grunt of satisfaction and momentary increase in pace from her partner. _Not as hard as I thought…_Orihime thought to herself as she slowly started to make her own motions into his thrusts. _Actually, it's still pretty damn hard…_She giggled quietly to herself at the pun, secretly proud to have been able to think it up even in the heat of the moment. Ichigo cast her a quick glance, but upon realizing nothing was awry went back to teasing her breasts.

Ichigo was steadily getting deeper and deeper, brushing up against her G-spot and marveling at how wonderfully tight she was. Tatsuki had been more wide-set due to her athleticism, and he had an easier time gaining entry with her, and while he was able to bury himself within his first woman, Ichigo didn't begrudge the resistance he encountered within his princess's pussy; in fact, it made the intercourse that much more enjoyable. Furthermore, now that he had an inkling of what do, he found that he wasn't half bad pleasing a woman in this most basic of ways. Orihime herself was a quick learner, as she had her heels dug in against the back of his hips, pulling herself upwards in time with his strokes. Ichigo found himself giving out the occasional sigh, in addition to Hime's constant vocalizations. Last week had been his initiation to his sexuality with the one person he trusted most of all, and now it was his turn to be someone's guide. The fact that she was crazy about him, and insanely attractive was an added bonus that he didn't plan to take for granted. He was ready to take care of her, just as she deserved.

Orihime's strokes quickened. Her lips were constricting around his cock even more than they had when he first entered her, and Ichigo knew what was coming up. Her breathing picked up pace and she started putting her entire body into the thrusts that entwined the two. Her breasts bouncing wildly as she continued to escalate, Ichigo abandoned his post there and once more pressed his forehead to hers. Eyes wide open and pleading, Orihime looked unblinking into her champion's eyes, drawing nothing but affection and support as tremors started wracking her body. His hands fastened again on her supple waist, helping her lilt into their passionate interaction. Despite the nip in the air, sweat had begun to bead on both of their faces. _So it wasn't just me. _Orihime managed to think in the midst of the giant endorphin rush building up in her brain. _It was him, too._ She didn't giggle at this inside joke; she couldn't, as she was on the verge of hyperventilating. Ichigo was far inside of her by now, near six inches deep at his peak. Not quite a furious pace as of yet, their thrusts were still surprisingly fast considering their experience. Orihime had curled her lower back so that his member was boring straight into her, and his rock-hard erection had the interior of her vagina alight with sensation. She grit her teeth. Something was on its way, and wouldn't be stopped.

Almost all at once her climax was upon her, her inner walls constricting tighter then she could clench her fist, and releasing a flow of her own juices to coat his throbbing cock and drip out of her onto the rustled sheets. She had let out a small squeal at the onset of her first (partner-induced) orgasm, and dug her nails into Ichigo's shoulders as she continued to vigorously thrust long after the last tingling sensations had subsided. After this little episode her cunt had finally loosened up some, and one could hear a slapping sound ensuing as their pelvises collided. Ichigo couldn't hold back the pressure building in his own sex, and soon found himself gasping trying to stretch out their love-making as much as possible. Seeing the strain he was undergoing, Orihime, calm despite the frenetic events prior, merely took his handsome, angular face within her palms one more time, looked deep into his amber eyes, and said softly:

"I love you, Ichigo."

With a final groan, Ichigo released into her, his hot seed making her gasp before drizzling out to mix with her own fluids on the mattress. Pulling out, he fell on his back beside his new love, exhausted.

For long moments neither spoke, both transfixing their gaze on the dingy ceiling of the young woman's apartment. Their hands lay intertwined between them as they started to doze off in the satisfied aftermath of their two-person hurricane. Orihime, her head cloudy from the experience, glanced to her left at her orange-haired hero, and found her old, goofy smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Having heard her turn her head, Ichigo met her gaze with his own genuine grin.

"Ichigo…" She whispered.

"Yes, Hime?" He responded, no louder.

"This moment has been on my mind for the past five years."

Ichigo blushed, reflecting on just how innocent Orihime was to him, at least up until this point.

"No, I don't mean the sex, Ichigo. Although…that was everything I had ever hoped my first time to be: with you." Color draining from his cheeks, the young man simply smiled and waited for her to continue. "The moment I've been thinking about is one just like this, where we can lay next to one another, not another care in the world. I know, Ichigo, that I can't have you all to myself. But as long as I know that the space in my heart for you isn't wasted, I don't give a damn." Giving his hand a reassuring squeeze, Orihime moved in to give her love a kiss on the cheek and nuzzle into his neck. Ichigo let out a sigh of satisfaction; and not necessarily one pertaining to sex. It just somehow felt right to just lay there, Orihime in his arms. He knew precisely what she was talking about, and the warm feeling that spread through him when he looked at her…yes, he was definitely falling for her. There was no hesitance or guilt here, he knew that he wanted to be with her. And now that his conscious was clear…

_Oh, shit._

"Tatsuki!" He nearly yelled, sitting up and leaving a startled Orihime disoriented among the whites. He had forgotten all about her once he and Orihime had started talking. And once things had become heated, well…she wasn't the foremost thought in his mind. He wanted to palm his forehead.

_She heard all of it…damn it, what was I thinking?_

"Tatsuki!" He called out again as Orihime sat up, cocking her eyebrows nervously. She was obviously experiencing similar thoughts. "Are you still out there?"

After a heart-stopping couple of seconds of waiting, the doorknob turned with a click and in walked the lady in question.

"What's with all the commotion?" She asked, a look of melded confusion and concern on her face. She had in her hand a Styrofoam cup with steam pouring out of the lid, coffee from one of the local cafés, maybe Orihime's favorite. Observing her two nude friends laying in bed together, she clenched it with a death grip, the container creaking in protest.

"Wha…?" She stammered.

"It's not what it- Okay, it's pretty much exactly what it looks like." Ichigo said, sheepishly. Tatsuki didn't look angry, or even upset by that standard. Much like Orihime didn't at first understand what the two had shared with them earlier, Tatsuki simply couldn't register the scene before her.

"So you…" She started.

"Yes." Ichigo muttered, blankly_._

"So you two are…"

"Yes." Orihime piped in, wrapping her arms around him. Upon seeing her friend's happiness, Tatsuki eased up. She had no right to pass judgment upon the pair's impulse, for she was just as guilty. "I'm surprised that you didn't hear us…just saying." She added, blushing.

"Well, I wanted to give you two some privacy, so after a little while I decided to go get some coffee and come back when things were resolved. The owner let me back in. I was hoping for the best, but damn- I didn't think either of you two were such smooth operators." A smirk spreading across her face, she set her drink down on the floor and did a short run before hopping onto the bed, on Ichigo's left. Trying her best to ignore his nakedness, she asked in a more serious tone:

"So…what's the verdict with…us?" She asked, indicating all three of them. Ichigo was taken back at the question.

"Well, um…by the sound of things…" It was Ichigo's turn to stammer.

"Tatsuki." Orihime interjected. The addressed turned her attention to the speaker, puzzled. "I love Ichigo. I want him to be happy." She stated, tightening her arms around his torso. "But I also know that the feelings he spreads wherever he goes aren't just limited to me. Whenever I'm around him it feels like I have my own personal sun within me; I just feel so warm and bright all over, and I can't contain my joy. It just wouldn't be right to rob others of that wonderful feeling, including you, Tatsuki. I know that you wouldn't break his heart, or mine, and you mean just as much to me as Ichigo does. So, if you don't mind sharing him, I don't either." She finished, a jovial, carefree grin on her delicate features.

A wave of relief flooded through both Tatsuki and Ichigo upon hearing the redhead's piece: Ichigo for receiving support where his own words failed and Tatsuki for being able to keep both of her best friends…with benefits. Although…

"So, does this mean that you're taking a girlfriend, Ichigo?" Tatsuki asked, nervous of what his response might be. After a moment's pause, Ichigo looped his arms about the shoulders of the two girls.

"Not 'a' girlfriend, Tatsuki. I want to take care of each of you. If you two are willing to make things official, that is…"

"Yes!" Was his resounding reply from both parties.

Beaming, Tatsuki kicked off her sneakers and rolled onto her side, trailing her fingers down Ichigo's exposed abdomen.

"So, now that the air is clear…I believe you and I have some catching up to do, Mr. Kurosaki." She teased, giving a wicked grin. She wasn't anticipating the soft, white hand that gripped her wrist. Looking over at her still-unclothed friend, she was startled to hear Orihime say:

"What's the big idea? I thought we were sharing." The two girls looked at each other flatly for a few seconds, shared a laugh, and proceeded to plant their lips on opposite sides of Ichigo's neck. Right before a his face lit up with bright hues of red, Ichigo managed to get out a quick:

"Now, girls…" His half-hearted protest fell upon deaf ears.


	3. After (Way After) School Special

"And remember, my babies, the spirits are always with you! Good night, folks, and please, if it smells like a mean spirit, don't hesitate to call my associates at-" _Click._

The television screen snapped into darkness, silencing Karakura's premier spirit detective in mid-sentence. Setting down the remote on the arm of the old, navy-blue couch he had been sitting in for the past couple of hours, Ichigo Kurosaki rubbed his eyes, yawning.

_Must have dozed off if that garbage is on…_He silently and irately noted. Don Kanonji's lovechild of a reality series had aired for a mere three seasons before being widely debunked and put down by critics and viewers alike, but reruns still seemed to surface every once in a while. If it were up to Strawberry, all original recordings of the show would have been heaped in a pile, doused in gasoline, set afire, and buried next to Hitler for good measure. _Still, others are entitled to their opinions…_

As if to remind him of this, he felt a slight shift in weight on his left side. Head resting on his shoulder and arms looped around one of his, Orihime lay, curled up in a ball on the cushion next to him and still sound asleep. He could see her body rise and fall with her breath, and couldn't hold back a sentimental grin. _Even in sleep she looks so graceful…_Indeed, he couldn't understand how a creature of such felicity had chosen him as its mate.

To his right was a picture of less elegance. In much the same position as Ichigo had nodded off was Tatsuki, head hanging slackly into the back of the sofa and mouth slightly agape. She inhaled and exhaled more deeply than Orihime, her firm, round breasts moving up and down with the expansion of her lungs. Ichigo saw this, and held back a snicker. Orihime was the very standard of delicate beauty, whereas Tatsuki was almost one of the guys. Both had their own unique beauty, and he felt the luckiest man alive to have them in his life. These polar opposites were not only best friends, but his girlfriends, as well.

Turning his attention back to Orihime, Ichigo reflected upon just how much this girl had impacted him recently. For years he had labored, unaware of the torch she held for him, unaware of the heartache he had caused. In one fateful afternoon that had all become a thing of the past, and she was now a permanent installment in this chapter of the young man's life.

Of course, without Tatsuki he would still be sitting alone in his apartment more often than not, dismally looking back on the times where he was needed. At least, that was the way he had perceived them. People had never stopped needing Ichigo, and it took a heart-to-heart with the most rugged bombshell in Karakura to figure that out. In a way, it had been selfish to allow himself to sulk, merely because he could no longer raise a blade and feel close to others on the field of battle alone. Romance was proving to be an even more daunting foe than any hollow he had slain, in any case.

Nearly a month had passed since he and Tatsuki had gone to see Orihime in her downtown living accommodations, and for the first time since Aizen's fall Ichigo felt as if his life once again had direction. Now that he had two wonderful people to live it up for, how could he content himself with being a wallflower? Before, when the curtain of night fell across the cityscape it signaled a retreat to his hovel for another night spent alone with his poisonous thoughts and memories. However, dusk now signaled a different commencement altogether; to long evenings spent with Tatsuki and Orihime, to a time he could actually look forward to after a day's work. Work itself had become more bearable, as the money earned was no longer going just towards survival, but to the sharing of his life with his two sublimely imperfect angels. There had even been talk of application to Karakura Community College in his future, so that he wouldn't have to make ends meet as an odd-jobs specialist for much longer. True, his grades had gone down the crapper thanks to his responsibilities as a shinigami, but as Orihime knew better than anybody, KCC wasn't exactly picky when it came to its attendees.

Ichigo's free time, which had previously consisted of absent-minded exercise and one of the few solaces he could find: poetry, was now also put toward making time for his dual passions. Tatsuki lived only a couple of blocks away; seeing her was no problem in the slightest. A short run or drive (the black SUV Orihime had seen had turned out to be his) brought him to her two-story apartment, and after a brief discussion with her roommate (he could never remember her name; some Belgian girl who had come for a study-abroad program) his karate-queen would be by his side, ready to engage in whatever plans the two had made.

Seeing Orihime wasn't quite as easy. Living downtown, it was somewhat of a lengthy trip, even by car, to his redheaded princess. It was for this reason that they had adopted the use of the town's subway system, seedy though it was. There had, in fact, been a moment of hearty laughter all around the trio after the nervous bachelor had insisted that the girls carry switchblades in their purses whenever they use the railways. Ichigo would go to her as many times a week as he could manage, sometimes bringing Tatsuki along and other times not. This was a mutual decision on their part; if Tatsuki got her own time in the limelight with her beau, then it was only fair to give Orihime her own private intimacy with him, as well. A roughshod arrangement, to be sure, but Ichigo had found an abundance of willpower and energy to make things work out for his twin flames.

And for one eighteen-year-old boy, Ichigo wasn't doing a half-bad job of managing the situation. The time he spent with Tatsuki over Orihime was made up in phone calls to the latter and small gifts when they did meet up (his money for Tatsuki was exhausted on meals out, which didn't go unappreciated), so that while there was some well-anticipated anxiety surrounding the relationship, all parties went to bed satisfied in the end.

Tonight was one of the rare occasions in which Ichigo had the privilege of staying in with not one, but both of his exquisite ladies. The work week done over with, he had a full forty-eight hours and then some to devote to romancing his best girls. He had personally escorted Orihime over, joking with her about the switchblade he had offered while quietly running his fingers over the hilt in his pocket on the way. Tatsuki, meanwhile, had let herself into Ichigo's snug one-story to ready it for company. Of talents, the boy had many; housekeeping not among them. It wasn't too strenuous a chore: a few piles of laundry to be stacked or bagged for cleaning, some dishes to be done, a bed to be made…

And so it came to be, with the three adolescents jumbled atop one another on a beaten couch, a blank TV screen and empty pizza box laying before them. The scene seemed almost too perfect for Ichigo to believe. He really was living the dream, achieving victory over life's trials in this one moment. He needed to castle, no titles, no fortune to feel validated. This humble apartment was his castle, the two slumbering beauties next to him his fortune. And as for titles…

"Ichigo…" Orihime had stirred from her sleep, an ambulance siren in the distance rousing her from her state of comfort. Never would the young man hear a sweeter sound than his own name uttered from the lips of his auburn-haired muse. When she was calm, composed, and at home, words flowed from her throat like birdsong, and having them directed at him made Ichigo feel as if he could float upon the air. That, coupled with her gorgeous grey eyes fixating upon his, made even his battle-hardened heart melt.

Bringing up his forearm, without breaking the lass's grip on him, he softly brushed away a stray lock of hair that had been dangling over her brow. Gently planting a kiss on her forehead, he whispered in response:

"What do you need, Hime?" He let his head rest upon hers as he gently caressed the graceful curve of his lover's face. The fuddled look that had accompanied her stupor faded, a sleepy, almost childish grin taking its place.

"We fell asleep…" Orihime said, a note of disappointment hanging in her words. Ichigo let out a quiet laugh.

"That we did, dear, that we did." Pausing a moment, he continued: "And what's wrong about that?"

"Tatsuki and I…planned something special…all three of us…" The girl was still in somewhat of a tired daze, and couldn't seem to complete her thoughts. Ichigo's ears nonetheless perked up.

"What kind of 'something special'?"

"Can't tell…promised Tatsuki I'd keep it secret…" Even in her half-conscious state Orihime managed a teasing smirk. Ichigo didn't miss a beat. Lifting his arm above the young lady's head as to pry himself from her fingers, he slid it behind the small of Orihime's back, fixing his hand upon her hip and pulling her in to a closer embrace. Orihime blinked a few times, not anticipating the romantic gesture. Ichigo's face was inches from hers, and the close-up of his handsome features served as a bucket of cold water, waking her up to the fullest. Despite weeks of having been in a relationship with him, little moments such as this still brought a blush to the girl's face, which made Ichigo brandish a devilish grin of his own.

"Oh, but secrets are meant to be told…" He whispered into her ear, delighting in the shiver it sent down her spine. More lucid, Orihime adapted to the game.

"Weeelll…" She trailed off momentarily, looking into the corners of her eyes. "It's the first whole weekend we'll have spent together. We wanted something to mark the occasion. You've been such a hard worker that we thought you deserved a reward…" She now looked straight at him, batting her long, full lashes as she did so. Ichigo felt a stirring below his belt.

"Yeah?" He didn't quite know how to respond.

"Oh, yes." She said, a dangerous sweetness creeping into her voice, much like poison dripping into a vat of honey. She started to trail her fingertips down his chest, her nails leaving small tracts of tingling sensation through his pinstripe button-down. "We couldn't help but notice that your bed in there was big enough for two…or more."

Ichigo felt the hair on the back of his neck prick up, and despite holding two human beings so close to him felt a chill spread over his arms and torso. Was this conversation going where he thought it was going? And, perhaps more importantly, was he still asleep? It wasn't like Orihime to be the provocative one. Tatsuki took very guy-ish views on most things, sex among them. Granted, his relations with both girls had been regular over this past month; more often than not he fell asleep with one of them in his arms, or on the phone with one while his lady of the hour was preparing for their nightly exertions. But not since that day he and Orihime had cleared the air with each other had he been with both of them simultaneously.

_I STILL can't believe that happened…_Ichigo made an aside mentally, remembering the skin, sweat and heat that evening had entailed. While the girls tended to shy away from one another, each of them shined through in their own right, putting Ichigo's newfound sexuality to the test. His member had ached after that frenzied spell of mating, but he clearly remembered staying up long after his angels had fell victim to their exhaustion, relishing the feeling of satisfaction that sweet burn brought.

That being said, he had hardly been able to look either in the eye the following morning. He had been almost too embarrassed to follow through with his lover's needs for those first few days, but seeing how happy the physical expression of their feelings made his partners gave the boy resolve to satisfy them with renewed vigor. But still, that had been spontaneous, a feverous act that reared its head in the red-hot forges of passion. This was planned, meticulous, deliciously sinful…

"Ichigo?" Orihime interrupted his thoughts, seduction no longer lacing her words. It was a small, concerned gesture that stoked the warm fire that burned in Ichigo's gut whenever the lass was around. "I'm sorry…we thought you'd enjoy it…I never should have said anything…" She averted her gaze, looking down at her lap. "We both should have known better."

Ichigo frowned, his eyebrows contorting into a look of regret as he squeezed Orihime tighter than ever.

"Hey." He said, his voice hardly more than a rasp of air. "Look here."

She did as she was bidden, and it drove daggers into his heart to see small droplets forming in the corners of her large, luminous eyes. He hated seeing either of them cry. He was their guardian, their stone among quicksand, and if the evils of the world did them harm it evoked despair and wrath within him the likes of which Ichigo hadn't experienced since he had left the battlefield. Such was the way he viewed those precious to him.

Ichigo gave her a soft peck.

"How could I not appreciate that? You two went through all the trouble of putting this together, and here I learn that you wanted to end it with…with…"

"A threesome?" The girl quietly interrupted. The word hit Ichigo with a jarring impact.

"Y-yes…" He hadn't thought about it in such a manner before. It had simply been making love to Tatsuki or Orihime…while the other was also having sex with him. Sort of an ego-centric take on it, he knew, but the young berry-head hadn't wanted to think that he had taken part in such debauchery as group relations, especially so early after his sexual awakening. So to hear his beloved address what made him blush in such an open fashion was comparable to a sack full of bricks to Ichigo's face. "A…a threesome, thanks. I mean…it just comes to show how much you guys care, in a way."

Orihime had calmed down by now. Praise from Ichigo seemed to have that effect on her. He knew this, and both loved and cursed having so much say in how she felt.

"Do you mean it?" She asked, her voice hardly more than an adorable squeak.

"Of course I do. You're my Orihime; my precious Orihime…" He trailed off fondly, a somewhat absent look fixing itself on his face as he seemed to stare through the girl, to the off-white wallpaper beyond. He might not know how he felt about such kinky behavior with his two favorite people, but he did know, beyond a doubt, that something special was forming between he and they. It wasn't often that he found himself acting so love-struck, but it's occasion and cause were sincere, and he didn't mind it in the slightest. Pulling himself back into the moment, he once again fixated his sharp brown eyes onto her large, beautiful grey ones. "And you can do no wrong by me. Simply the thought of you doing it for me makes it worthwhile."

Orihime let a broad grin spread across her fair features. Letting loose a ponderous yawn, it once again became apparent that she had just woken up from a cozy little snooze. She rested her face upon Ichigo's chest as he witnessed her body go limp once more. _My precious Orihime…_He liked the sound of that. It was a phrase he looked forward to saying many times over.

"That's good…maybe we'll have it after you get back…" His auburn-haired princess muttered as she sank into the depths of her dreaming world.

Ichigo's heart skipped a beat. For one thing, he hadn't expected the (supposedly) innocent of the pair to persist. For another, it reminded him of just why they had orchestrated their little get-together this weekend. Grimacing slightly, he pulled the two in more snugly against himself. The contentment of the evening had dulled his resolution for what awaited on the horizon, and it made every lingering moment spent in this still-life of he, Tatsuki, and Orihime bittersweet to know that he would have to part with it so soon.

He glanced to his right, at the sleeping form of Tatsuki. Although he didn't worry after her nearly as much as he did for Orihime, their time spent apart would take the same toll. She was strong of character, independent and free; a kindred spirit. Craning his neck slightly, he softly kissed her on the neck. She shifted at his touch, eyelids fluttering half-open.

"What is it?" She asked groggily. Ichigo couldn't help but crack a goofy smile.

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

Tatsuki laughed through her nose quaintly. "You're such a dork." She said as she rested her forehead upon his collar, hand caressing the other side of his neck.

All of a sudden remembering that he, too, was due for some much needed sleep, Ichigo closed his eyes and let his head rest against the back of the couch once more. _Ain't that the truth._

_Crunch. Crunch. _

Beneath his feet, a monotonous protest to his intrusion upon the solemnity of the dawning morning, gravel gave beneath Ichigo's feet as he beat a steady pace towards his destination. The sun had just peaked overtop of the denser city towards the East, and an omnipresent shroud of pallid clouds hung in the waking sky like a veil of wet cotton, casting a somber tint of blue over the young man's surroundings. Working his way through the back lots and abandoned properties of his childhood hometown seemed to him like viewing some distant memory through stained glass, and more than once he feared that his steaming breath would fog up this scant reminder of what he had so cherished.

Fall had all but run its course; the trees that had sprouted in the neglected patches of earth between ramshackle, half-finished constructions and destructions had long ago shed their last leaves, and seemed timber skeletons, naked before the frigid onslaught that would only intensify. The seasons, to Ichigo, had always been beautiful, but the transitions between them unsightly and cruel.

Everything about this forlorn stretch of Karakura spoke out as if with a dying breath. The plants, withered in the cold, and the buildings, themselves disappearing and coated in graffiti. This place, though manmade, did not belong the living. It was a drying husk of what once had been prosperous, what Ichigo had once called home. It weighed heavily upon his heart to see how unkind time had been.

Over the course of the last couple of years, the development that had housed Ichigo's family and so many others had been choked out by corporate progression. Too many big businesses had branched out from Tokyo, snuffing out the private sector and uprooting what had enabled this tight-knit community to thrive. The Kurosakis had been so fortunate as to evade this swipe of the guillotine, with Ichigo's father taking the girls and moving deeper into the city, procuring a position with Mr. Ishida at the larger, better-defended medical firm owned by his friend of many years. He had waited until Ichigo had moved out; there wouldn't be as much money to go around the family now that his personal clinic was out of business, and despite his harsh methods of upbringing Isshin really did want the boy to finish his adolescence where it had started, considering all of the hardship he had endured both school-related and…otherwise.

And so it came to be that the route Ichigo now trudged down was a ghost town, offering no more company than the desolate howl of the wind and the occasional stray dog. Despite his leather jacket and gloves, Ichigo could feel the cold relentlessly seeping into him, chilling his soul and body alike as he tucked his hands into his underarms, lowered his head and quickened his pace. _It's close…_

Ichigo couldn't be sure of how long he had been walking. Even though he was traversing what had once been home, every twist and turn renewed his feeling of being lost, of anything still standing being completely out of the question. Still, something in the back of his mind insisted that what he was looking for had survived the ordeal, if anything had.

It was as the first golden rays of the day had started to penetrate the cloudy veil overhead that he finally came upon it. Nestled in between two half-collapsed concrete behemoths was nothing other than the Urahara Shoten, lot choked with weeds and striped awning skewed and tattered as if it were the hat of its charming owner. It's walls, once washed white, were taken by ivy and moss. The two small windows on either side of the shop's entrance belayed no light from within. Ichigo's heart sank.

_No… _He thought, dismayed. _It can't be…Kisuke was SMARTER than them…_ It just wouldn't register in his mind that a mad genius such as the store's proprietor would meet his match against something as mundane as the corporate hammer._ Damn it, Hat-and-Clogs…_He couldn't give up hope just yet. He had made promises that he intended to keep, some of which had gone unfulfilled for long enough. He didn't care if he had to come back with a sledge and tear through the place until he found a way to do it himself. _I will not be denied. _Steeling over his determination once more, Ichigo almost puffed out his chest as he barreled like a tank towards the defiantly pitiful structure.

The door was unlocked, and the knob gave with a single fluid motion of his wrist. It swung inward on silent hinges, inviting the young man into the murk and shadows within. Cautiously setting his right foot within the doorframe to do a once-over of the interior, he found a queer sight, indeed.

There wasn't an object out of place on the shelves. Rows of neatly-stacked cartons and jars filled with sweets stood in their assigned positions, not a one askew. The register was intact and in its place on the checkout desk, and even the rug on which customers were supposed to have cleaned their shoes was exactly where the clerk would have put it. Yes, it certainly seemed as if the shop were thriving as it had always been, and for a moment Ichigo was half-expecting the eccentric Urahara to appear from behind one of the fabric doors separating his living quarters from the commerce area, brandishing his Cheshire grin and flamboyant bravado as if the past couple of months had been nothing more than a dream, a temporary respite for Ichigo's battle-weary soul. No such spectacle occurred. The meek columns of morning sunlight that poked through the shop's windows illuminated the sea of dust motes that stirred lazily through the air a fiery yellow, creating an atmosphere of somber beauty even in the most supremely ordinary of settings. Long, mournful shadows crept over the shelves and displays within the store, like two-dimensional beings who had lost their way among the array of spiritual goods, themselves coated with the dust of prolonged neglect.

Ichigo, sobered by the unmistakable solitude the scene presented him, felt a numbness spreading throughout his body. _There really is nobody here…_Of that much he could be sure. No footprints, no indent of any kind was visible on the grime that clung to every surface in the vicinity. Everywhere he looked was the uninterrupted encroachment of dust, of dead cells and lifeless chunks of dirt, claiming what had been left behind by a staff, a family, that no longer held sway over their own establishment.

He could feel his jaw fixing itself into a grimace; there would be no tears or outbursts to accompany this stinging reality. As far as Ichigo was concerned, there was no need for such. This grim milestone was to be taken at face value: for the first time in his life, Ichigo needed a favor from Urahara, and the latter had up and left. He was at a loss for words, actions, and ideas.

Without knowing quite why, he let himself into the empty shop. Ichigo realized that the sight before him was a sadder one than any he had seen on the way. The crumbling desolation that surrounded this place was no match for the melancholy within. It made sense for such ugly, decaying ruins not be inhabited; here it just seemed as if the people who had once lived there had vanished into thin air. Walking down the aisles, trailing a finger along the dusty surfaces and leaving small trails in his wake, he let himself get lost in that mist of loneliness, forgetting who or where he was in that moment of complete isolation. After all, what purpose does an identity serve if there is no other to distinguish oneself form? In his trance, all nuances of the oddity store he had never paid that much attention to before became apparent: the scuffed floorboards, the cheap fluorescent lights hung from the plaster ceiling, the fluttering of the trailing, tapestry-styled door leading to Kisuke's room.

_Wait a minute._ Ichigo snapped back into lucidity. _There's no wind in here._ _How can the cloth be moving without a stream of air?_ Perplexed, the young man listened for the telltale whir of a fan, but couldn't make one out. Of course, he hadn't expected to, as the total silence that encompassed this stretch of town would have made any sound swell to monstrous proportions. With a twinge of a sensation straddling the border of curiosity and hope, Ichigo ventured to the barrier in question and cautiously parted it with his left hand. A small trickle of warm air seeped out, surprising the berry-head before he remembered how frigid his surroundings were. _Still, the only way it would be even lukewarm was if it came from a heated building or…_

Underground. Ichigo palmed his forehead. _How the hell did I overlook that?_ Searching through the abandoned living quarters, his memory a bit shaky, Ichigo found what he was looking for within minutes. _Urahara sure did have a sense of style…_He marveled silently, observing the much out-of-place medieval trapdoor that was poorly concealed under a cheap straw mat in one corner. The cast-iron handle and thick oak planks were a queer contrast to the whitewashed walls and seamless hardwood floors of the shoten, but Ichigo didn't question; Urahara himself was a contradiction to normality, and this eccentric piece of décor might end up proving to be his last hope.

Gripping the horizontal door with both hands, Ichigo dug his heels in and prepared to muster up a mighty effort to lift the archaic bundle of wood up, knowing that oak and iron wouldn't let the hinges give easily. Breathing deeply, the youth prepared to heave upwards, when suddenly the door swung upwards of its own accord, too fast for him to do anything but experience a surge of dread before it slammed into his unguarded face, sending him reeling into the wall opposite of him. The force of the blow had winded and disoriented him, and it was almost a minute before he could once again rise to his feet. His entire face stung from the impact, and hot blood was flowing from his nose. Wiping the crimson fluid from his upper lip, Ichigo stared at the red smears on his hands for a moment, anger boiling up inside of him.

_Damned, no-good, malicious little…_He stopped his mental cursing abruptly as he realized that the door had remained open throughout his short ordeal. _Odd…_He thought. _A booby trap would have closed back up by now…_Curious, he stepped once more towards the mechanism, giving the boards a light push, and was overjoyed when the door fell back down to the floor, sealing its entrance with not so much as a bump against the concrete. It wasn't often that Ichigo's analytical side prevailed; he was a fighter, not a thinker, after all. Being able to discern the workings of one of Kisuke's little knick-knacks on his own was an accomplishment for someone who had been screwed and saved in equal parts by them in the past. Nonetheless, he couldn't let his momentary triumph overshadow his purpose.

Kneeling cautiously to the side of the spring-loaded contraption, Ichigo gave a light tug on the navy-hued metal of the handle once more, retracting his hand and waiting a few seconds before the door shot up with impossible speed to suspend itself at a ninety-degree angle. Smirking, he moved to the front of the portal while still on his knees, feeling a gust of the warm air that had drawn him billow up from the cavernous basement of Kisuke's design.

Placing his hands upon the wooden ladder that was fixed into the foundation just a few inches below where the door would have rested, Ichigo slowly, very carefully lowered himself onto the construct. He couldn't afford to be reckless; if his memory served him correctly the ladder extended at least a quarter mile down into the earth, a fall he wasn't up to risking now that his ability of levitation wasn't a factor. So down he climbed, rung by rung, footfall by footfall, into that ironically sunny abyss.

Twenty minutes into the effort found him little more than halfway descended. He had made the trip only once before manually, when he was first preparing to storm the Seiretei in search of Rukia. True, he had been just as human at that time, but righteous cause had given him superhuman strength at the time; all that drove him now was a biting anxiety at what awaited him in this subterranean desert. His entire body ached, the absence of a floor having to be compensated with the well-worked muscles of his arms, chest and legs but also the broad sheets of tissue spanning his back and shoulders. His fighter's instincts alerted him to each individual strand at work, and the pain that came with it.

_And people bitch about flights of STAIRS…_

The strain on his body was nothing new; even in practice he made a habit of pushing himself beyond what was typically healthy. It somehow felt good to be in a midst of a long, daunting struggle once again. The old calluses beneath his fingers and on his palms belonged on a hard surface, which put Ichigo strangely at ease as he climbed down. He was in a state of almost perfect flow: he acknowledged the difficulty of his task but would not be swayed, would not break his concentration when so much was left undone.

After well over half an hour Ichigo found himself at the cavern floor, his sore feet finding some small concession in the sand that constituted it. Casting his gaze over the immense sprawl of Urahara's training grounds, Ichigo couldn't hold back the nostalgic sense of awe that they never failed to inspire.

Miles of arid, meticulously crafted landscape stretched out in all directions; dunes, outcroppings, nothing had escaped the notice of its constructor. The ceiling overhead was painted in such a way that to the unaware it would seem as if there was no ceiling at all, but a transparent glaze that rested under a clear, blue sky.

_Odd…_Ichigo thought._ There's no sun painted up there, but it's always so bright all around…_He decided not to wrack his brain over the matter, instead homing in on his primary objective. _There HAS to be someone down here…they wouldn't leave all of this abandoned for any common thief to stumble upon._ And so, after a mere second's respite Strawberry set off, body aching but mind sharp as he scanned the terrain for any sign of life, of help.

Things certainly weren't in his favor. The underground expanse was easily dozens of square miles, with visual obstructions all around. What was worse was that Ichigo, a spiritual entity no longer, could not be tracked via his spiritual energy, even by the most experienced shinigami. He was the needle in the haystack, struggling to be found by a field hand who might not even be in the barn. Nevertheless, he had come this far, and giving in now would mean letting his efforts be for naught, and letting down the two ladies still asleep at his place. So, despite the ache in his legs and the doubt in his heart he pressed on.

If finding the shoten and descending the ladder had been time-consuming endeavors, then this search of his was an event in another league entirely. Having left his leather coat at the foot of the wooden construct that had brought him there, the young man couldn't resist constantly darting his gaze to his exposed wristwatch, wincing each time he noted the passing of time. First it had been 8:30, then 8:45, then 9 and so on, disgruntling the lone wanderer progressively.

Ichigo couldn't help but feel petty at his own distress; here he had wasted months of his life going nowhere and now each second that slipped by stung at him like an angry hornet. He had the entire weekend to make things happen, in any case, so why become vexed upon an hour's delay? These thoughts passed through his mind, hand in hand with ones urging him to pick up the pace. Before long the maelstrom within his head had him completely sidetracked, shuffling through the grounds with no pattern and blunted resolve. It was quite possible he would miss any signs leading to his prize; his irritation towards his own shortcomings was reaching a fever pitch. He just couldn't seem to shake off the parasitic seeds of doubt that were sapping his will.

_9:30._ The hands on the clock were taunting him, making leaps and bounds as soon as he diverted his attention and grinding to a standstill when he made the mistake of checking his progress.

_9:45._ _Damn it, where the hell is everybody?_

_10:00. Tatsuki and Hime should be up by now…I wonder if they're thinking of me?_

_10:02. Why would they waste their time on someone who can't track a pervert, a giant, an obnoxious shortstop, a borderline autistic girl and…HER._

_10:17. _Ichigo felt like ripping the device from his forearm and chucking it into the nearest ravine.

_10:30. _He stopped dead in his tracks, pain shooting up his calves and his lips dry and cracked. For more than an hour he'd been on his feet, moving, and he was _tired_. His body, his mind, his spirit, all were exhausted. With no respite for any of them he had trekked on, trying his best to ignore the biting reality of the situation: there was no hope for him. Just as mysteriously as the eccentric group of people occupying the shoten had existed, they had disappeared, leaving candy and dirt as their legacy. No longer able to sustain themselves on the underbelly of a happy community (for the development itself had become nothing BUT underbelly), they had to move on. Why leave the store unlocked? Why not remove the stock from the shelves? Why leave the gigantic training space undisturbed?

"Why the fuck should I care?" Ichigo said aloud, distraught. These things mattered to Urahara, not to him. All that he needed was for someone to BE here, and for whatever reason there wasn't. That was as far as he should have had to go, but his pride, his iron will, his god-damned inkling of hope wouldn't let him leave sleeping dogs to lay. He felt like burrowing his fist into the nearest stone face, but he knew better than that; a warrior would tell one more readily than all others that violence alone rarely solves one's problems. There really was nothing for it, and he knew that no amount of cursing or bitterness would make his objective any closer. _But STILL…_Ichigo's face was contorting in frustration. He couldn't seem to find the strength to move another foot forward. His body was bolted in place, his joints cemented and creaking in protest when he willed them to move.

It was as if some chemical had been filtered through the underground chamber, freezing the very air into some kind of plastic, still perfectly clear but immobilizing all in its clutches. Ichigo's nerves had been on end for the past hour, rubbed raw by his high expectations, and this was their response: calm down, stop moving, take it all in and start anew. In the absence of Zangetsu and his own inner Hollow it fell to Ichigo himself to make these judgments, even subconsciously. Finally getting a grip on his own impatient discomfort, Strawberry went through a ritual he hadn't in a long time. _Much too long…_

Exhaling smoothly and evenly, letting all of the coiled sinew knotted throughout his body relax, Ichigo closed his eyes and did his best to sharpen his dull, human senses. Nothing mattered now but what was left to him: the pulse of his own heartbeat, the shrill whistle of unexplained wind over the arid surface he stood on, and the trickle of sixth-sense energy flowing right beneath his skin. His emotions left him. He couldn't let his own ego block what scant chance there was for success. His ears strained, his tongue running over his parched lips as he delved deeper and deeper into his surroundings while neither moving from the spot or opening his eyes.

One by one, he noted the background elements and eliminated them from his notice: the hiss of the shifting sands, the melancholy whisper of wind, the unnatural heat…It was as if he were closing windows on a computer, getting closer and closer to the desktop from where he could access whatever he needed.

After a few minutes of this heightened awareness, Ichigo could begin to make out a sound that had eluded his attention before. It was a faint rumbling, not far off by the vibrations he could feel traveling up through the ground. It was neither grating nor mighty; part of the reason he hadn't been able to distinguish it earlier. Without thinking, he got down onto his knees and set his ear to the ground. This sound didn't mean anything; chances were it was another letdown. But it was _something_, and that was all that mattered. From what he could make out, it was fairly nearby, maybe on the other side of the small mountain nearest to him.

_Worth a shot…_Ichigo nonchalantly stood up and started towards his newfound destination. He couldn't get his hopes up again, not after so much disappointment, but he had to keep trying, even if he spent the next week shuffling through that rocky hell of Kisuke's design. _Better than letting them down…_Dutifully, he placed his hand on the side of the stony outcropping and starting circumventing it, intent on at least finding out what he had missed prior to his latest insight.

Artificial light, and with it a stifling heat, beat down from the painted canopy above as he made his way. The workings of Soul Society's technology would forever be a mystery to Ichigo; it certainly didn't' conform to the everyday imagination, much less to the convention of what is normally physically possible. He had never been interested in performing kido in the slightest, so whether or not these concepts and contraptions were imbued with some otherworldly aura was as much a mystery to the young man as it was how exactly they functioned. Nonetheless, this blaring light was better than fumbling his way around in pure darkness.

_I wonder if it turns off and on…_He mused as he journeyed towards the growing disturbance in the earth. _If it does…then someone would HAVE to be here, or at least come back to turn it off…_Of course, there was also the possibility that it was like Kukaku Shiba's residence, filled with bioluminescent plant life that would continue to function long after the property had been abandoned…or furthermore, that he would be overlooked when somebody came to drown the place in perpetual darkness, left fumbling around in the dark for God knew how long…the thought sent shivers down his spine despite the oppressive heat.

_A__lmost there…_His heartbeat picked up in anticipation as he prepared to round about on his quarry. He could see from his position that there was, in fact, a deep alcove in the sheer face of the outcropping, and the sound, he guessed, originated from within. _Probably why you can sense it from every point outside…_Ichigo had no idea what to expect: it could be anything, knowing Kisuke, and in his unfortunately mortal state he wouldn't necessarily be able to surmount any peril that this enigma held in waiting. _I can't back down now…_He thought, and readied himself for whatever laid around the corner. Taking one final, deep breath and emptying his mind, he sprinted the final couple yards that led to the yawning stone maw, gripping the edge for leverage that could aid in a hasty egress and shooting his head around the corner, half-expecting it to be blown off.

Ichigo's breath left him in a flat gust. He felt, once again, like bringing his palm to his forehead at his own lack of foresight. There was one feature, one painfully obvious feature he had overlooked in his assessment of his surroundings.

"The springs!" He cried out, voice much louder than he had thought it would be. He listened to his exclamation echo throughout the cavern for a moment, curious as to how far and well it would carry. Definitely a strategy he had overlooked before: scream at the top of your lungs until somebody heard you. _How about that? _He admonished himself quietly. _This dumbass seems to have lost what little wits he had…_

Letting his self-scorn subside, Ichigo shifted his attention back towards his latest discovery. He had never stopped to think that Kisuke had installed one of his special hot springs in his own training ground; Strawberry had only ever seen them in the complex in which Yoruichi had trained him. Remembering his time spent healing in those boiling pools brought back fond sentiments: achieving bankai, watching the ugly scars of his failures disappear, and seeing Yoruichi…

Ichigo blushed. Certain stones were best left unturned.

The rumbling he had heard and felt had turned out to be the churning of the therapeutic waters under the heat and pressure from beneath the earth's crust. The small cave carved into the mountainside was quite large, easily as big as his childhood home. The aquamarine waters lapped gently at the low ledges that led back out into the harsh sands of the facility, almost amorous in their slow, serene rhythm of to and fro. Most of the activity happened toward the center, where the shallows led off into a submerged, bowl-shaped indent about the size of an average swimming pool. A steady column of bubbles jetted up from the cracks in the bedrock there, a sound that was not sharp or piercing but boisterous and able to be heard from quite far off. Staring at the scene invoked an odd feeling in the young man; there was a surge of nostalgia, exhaustion and other feelings that didn't have a specific name. In any case, he found himself drawn to the clear, blue water.

Kicking off his shoes by the alcove's entrance, Ichigo's former impatience seemed to have subsided. His task was no less urgent, but if he was going to holler like an idiot for the next couple of hours he might as well grant himself some small concession. Besides, his cracked lips, bloody face and sore limbs were best taken care of before he interacted with anybody. An inexplicable calm shrouded the young man as he removed his clothes, leaving coat, jeans, tee and socks in a heap by the water's edge.

The shallows went about ankle-deep, and were ever so slightly hotter than bathwater. It felt heavenly on soles of his feet, red from the constant motion he had engaged in previously. A grunt escaped Ichigo's throat as he felt his entire body shiver, then relax as the initial shock of the spring's heat faded, and the savory warmth started to travel up through his legs. He started to wade out further, knowing it wouldn't be long until he caught a chill from the steam that was clinging to, and evaporating off of him.

_Shhhk. Shhhk._ The sliding of his feet made a sound akin to slicing, albeit much to soft to remind him of a blade. It gained in volume as he ventured into the deeper waters, stopping when the surface of the water was even with the middle of his thigh.

_Here._ He thought, as he let his legs give way and half-sat, half-collapsed into the spring's inviting embrace. His muscles coiled up tightly, and then released all of their tension in less than three seconds' time. He felt the relieving force wash all over him, reaching every curve and crevice of his battle-hardened physique. One of the few sensations that would ever make Ichigo groan in pleasure was that of incredibly hot water hitting his back, right between the shoulder blades. The feeling of heat that briefly bordered on pain was like one nice, long, continuous scratch on a place he normally couldn't reach with his own hands. Embarrassed by his momentary lapse in icy exterior, he was silently grateful that he hadn't found anyone as of yet. He wanted that to bother him, actually, to drive him to stand right back up and storm out of the cave, yelling like a maniac and sprinting in whatever direction looked the most promising, but something about sitting half afloat in that aquatic furnace pacified him, put his mind and soul at ease even as his body relaxed.

Ichigo's bottom rose from the stone floor of the pool, his feet barely scraping it as he laid in the water half-submerged. He bobbed gently up and down with the intake and exhale of air from his lungs, not a care in the world at this moment in time. His arms splayed out in an almost Christ-like fashion, not moving to hoist him up or even keep him from drifting. The feeling of complacency had completely overtaken him; even if someone extinguished the light overhead and left him in a sightless abyss he would have been perfectly satisfied with laying in those springs forever more.

Of course, he realized this to be speculation and nothing more. He could never forget the two delightful creatures that waited for his return; for his success. His quest would resume, but this was his moment, and his alone. As his muscle fibers and nose realigned, so too did his priorities. This spring was, after all, for brief respites between spars. Nonetheless, this might be the last break he caught for quite some time, and he planned to make the most of it. Dunking his head beneath the pool's surface, he filled his mouth with water and swallowed, intent on fulfilling a curiosity he had long held. Unsurprisingly, no miracles took place, which did nothing to dampen his trancelike good mood. Once again he took in a mouthful of the steaming liquid and spat it high into the air, turning his face as it cascaded back down onto him.

The cave's roof was collecting the vapor that emanated from the water's surface, condensing it and letting it fall back down into the spring in a steady trickle of droplets. It certainly was a contrast to the booming growl of the alcove's central geyser. Cracking his eyes open, Ichigo observed the ceiling, noting the bumps and dips where stalactites would eventually grow, long after he had left this cave, these grounds, and this life. One hundred and ten years of development were there, and eons upon eons remained. No human, no shinigami and neither of their creations were invulnerable to time's relentless assault. Having no idea why such broad and vexing concepts were flitting around his conscious, Ichigo once again closed his eyes to enjoy the remainder of his soak, instead listening to the beat of the cave's never-ending cycle hit his body and the surrounding water. _Plip. Plip. Plip. Plip. Plip. Plip._

_PLUNK._ His eyes shot open. It sounded as if a chunk of stone had dislodged itself from above and dropped straight into the center of the pool. Paddling his arms, he brought himself into a sitting position as to turn his head and look for the source of the noise. All he could discern were waves of ripples spreading out from what appeared to be the point of impact, right in the middle of the spring. Curious, he swiveled his lower body around behind him and started to swim towards the disturbance. His mind was still somewhat cloudy, and he didn't perceive any immediate danger.

Finding himself directly over the underwater crater, treading water, he cast his gaze downward to try and make out what was sinking to the bottom. It was too far down already to grasp with his toes, so he took a deep breath and dove after it, wincing at the blast of bubbles that bombarded his face as he swam towards whatever had caught his attention. The submarine indent went about a dozen feet below the surface, about as deep as a public swimming pool, so when his outstretched hand brushed against the stone foundation of the chasm Ichigo didn't panic; he simply spread his hands out below eye level to shield against the stream of bubbles and observed his surroundings, all the while ignoring the tightening in his chest.

His clear line of sight extended only a couple of inches in front of his face, so all around him he saw a myriad of swirling turquoise spheres that blotted out most everything else. It was as his lungs and eyes were straining that he felt something make contact with his ankle, and _wrap around_ it. Yelping and sending a burst of what little air he had on reserve floating upwards, he kicked erratically while scrambling to get away from whatever had gripped him. Water gushed into his gaping mouth at this little outburst, and while silently cursing he pushed his legs against the rocky bed of the spring to rocket upward towards supposed safety.

Ichigo broke the surface and promptly started taking in huge gulps of air. Looking around frantically for what he was sharing the water with, he could make out a dark blur ascending from its previous position underwater. Making powerful strokes with both hands and feet he cast himself away from the small pit, hoping to confront whatever the hell this thing was in the shallows where he would have more of an advantage.

Slowly it worked its way upwards, poking out above the water line without a sound, and staying suspended there, motionless. The bubbles around it still obscured what would have been seen below, leaving only a small patch of wet blue hide exposed. Eyeing it warily, Ichigo circled around it, half-swimming and half sidestepping. He was a good fifteen feet away, and the steam rising from the pool's heated surface kept him from accurately gauging what exactly the thing was. It had not moved since arising, but he thought he could see sheets of flesh billowing out from under it in the wake of the geyser's exhaust. It suddenly occurred to him that staying in this enclosed space with an unknown object (or creature) might not be the best course of action. He turned around to proceed to the cave's mouth and was froze to the spot by the sight that greeted him.

His clothes were gone. Well, all of them except his sneakers and leather jacket, which lay crumpled farther out on the dusty terrain.

_Someone is HERE._ His dulled state of awareness expelled now, Ichigo made nervous glances around the small chasm. _And they didn't announce themselves…_That sent a chill down his spine, in spite of the warmth engulfing his body. _Wait a minute-_

He turned once again to face the object he had fled from earlier. Kicking off, he drifted once more towards it, more curious than cautious, against his better judgment. With an outstretched arm he got a hold on it and retreated once more to the shallows with his prize in tow. Lifting the bundle up for a good view, he didn't know whether to be afraid, amused, or just plain pissed off.

It answered the mystery of where his clothes had gone. His white tee, his socks, and his jeans were tied together into a bundle, drenched and as heavy as a brick. They hadn't just fallen in; this was knot work from an intelligent being. _And that SOUND…they were thrown in, without a doubt. _Ichigo's skin began to crawl. He wanted to call out, to ask if anybody was there, but unlike most teenagers in an horror-oriented situation, he realized that bawling out questions usually ended up with one impaled. An overactive imagination, perhaps. Then again, he'd been impaled on enough occasions to know how generally unpleasant it tended to be.

That was when he heard it. Above the roar of the churning waters, above the patter of incessant droplets onto the steaming pool, a sound, eerie and soothing at the same time, reverberated throughout the small cavern. It was like some kind of buzz, or hum, or…_purr. _Ichigo knew for a fact at this point that he wanted to put as much distance between himself and the cave as possible. No hollow, no thug, no slasher was present; the truth horrified him infinitely more. Frantically searching the soaked bundle for his boxers, Ichigo found no such commodity. _FUCK._

"Looking for something?" A voice, smooth and inviting and terrifying beyond measure floated into Ichigo's ears from behind. His muscles tensed up and he gripped his wet garments so tightly that he began to wring them out. He didn't dare turn around. "I asked you a question, Mr. Kurosaki." Wrapping the tangled mess of jeans and tee around his waist as best he could, Ichigo gritted his teeth as he reluctantly pivoted to meet his surprise visitor.

"Yo-Yoruichi." He stuttered, not sure whether to be glad or more on edge than ever. Standing in the mouth of the cave stood his old ally and teacher, the flash-master, the former commander of the Stealth Force and long-time associate of Kisuke Urahara. Confirming his worst fear, she stood in the shallows, completely undressed, golden irises alight with amusement at his obvious discomfort.

"So touching to see that you remember me, _dear student._" The lilt in her voice unnerved him completely, his knuckles turning white with the intensity with which he held his makeshift towel.

Now, throughout his short-yet-illustrious battle career, Ichigo had never been known to turn tail and flee, even when hopelessly outmatched and on the brink of death. He had famously stood his ground against the eleventh Kenpachi, the captain of Sixth Division, the espadas and even Sosuke Aizen himself. But right now, right here his instincts screamed one command, and one only. _Run. Run. Run. Run. RUN. _Try as he might, Strawberry could only stand, fixated to the spot with his jaw agape and his face reddening like a hot coal. There would be no escape nor honorable defeat this day.

"It-it's…good…to see you again…?" Ichigo blundered forward, trying to save what little dignity he could through eloquence. Even he knew that it was a lost cause.

"Oh, the pleasure is all mine, dear student. It's good to see you once again. And so _much _of you, as well." She cooed, producing his missing boxers from behind her back. "I must say, I never knew you to accessorize, Ichigo. This little pattern of fifteens is just so…_you_." Her lips curled upwards into a toothless, mischievous grin. Ichigo swallowed, attempting to focus on something in the arid scenery behind her. However, he couldn't help but become indignant at her brash disregard for his private possessions.

"Cou-could you n-not? Those were a gift." Right after he had muttered that statement he knew that he had made a fatal mistake.

"And who is buying my most prized pupil underwear as a gift, pray tell?" An eyebrow raised, she held the undergarments out before her for a closer inspection. "They look pretty high-end, too. Why, Ichigo, have you gone and gotten someone special without telling me?" She teased, not anticipating any resistance. However, even a skilled assassin falters in planning now and again, and the nerve she had struck snapped Ichigo out of his timid state. He fixed his mouth into a compressed line, looked her right in the eyes and spoke firmly:

"That does not concern you. I am here for business and nothing more."

This defiance startled the ebony goddess momentarily. Nevertheless, recoveries were easily made for somebody who had been matching wits for more than three-hundred years

"My, my. It looks like a couple months of roughing it has put some hair on your testes." She exposed her white teeth in a wicked smile as she glanced down towards his submerged groin. All for emphasis, of course. He didn't flinch.

"If you are referring to my time spent powerless, then that also doesn't concern you."

She frowned.

"Ichi, dear, why are you being so cold? I swear that I can see the water around you freezing over. Why don't you come and sit in Sensei's lap and tell her what has you so down?" She pouted, creasing her brow and clasping her hands in one another at waist level, pushing forward her ample breasts which Ichigo did his best to ignore. She didn't get an answer. "Please?" She added, tilting her left hip upwards.

"Go to Hell." He said as he began to make his way towards the exit. "You're here, so Kisuke must be as well. I'll go find him." Defiance was one thing, but this all-out hostility took Yoruichi back considerably.

"Why are you acting this way, Ichigo?" Her voice turned stern. "You don't see an old comrade in months and this is how you react?"

"Why are YOU acting this way?" He stopped and turned to face her, his hazel eyes like chips of stone in his socket. "It isn't _funny_, it isn't _cute_, it's just in bad taste. To answer your question, yes, I do have special people in my life. More than special, as a matter of fact. And they wouldn't appreciate this any more than I would. Now, if you won't help me then I would like you to get out of my way so I can seek out further assistance on my own."

Yoruichi did no such thing. Any cat owner would testify to the fact that pride is their feline companion's most precious asset. Wound their pride, and one gets their eyes clawed out. As soon as Ichigo had turned his head to proceed out into the training complex the woman had flash-stepped directly into his path, less than a foot from his face. Her own glare made Ichigo's aggression wilt.

"You will do no such thing." Her tone reminded him of the quivering steel of a swung blade. "Urahara is away on business, and I'm in charge here. You have questions, comments or concerns and you come to me. Otherwise you're shit out of luck." Her upper lip pulled back into some sort of quasi-snarl that showcased her thin, sharp canines. "So please…" She continued. "Take a seat." Her hand darted forward, too fast for his human perception to even register, and sent him sprawling back into the spring, his modesty-preserver flying out of his hands as he flailed his arms in an attempt to regain balance. He landed on his ass, thankfully cushioned by the two feet or so of depth that was present in that portion of the pool. Using his hands to cover his unmentionables (with limited success) Ichigo attempted to stand back up. Before his knees had breached the water line Yoruichi was over him once more, arms crossed and head cast downward at him. Ichigo winced in anticipation. Her abuse had hurt like Hell even when he had his shinigami powers; if she lost her temper now he might snap like a twig. Cautiously, he spoke up.

"Fine. I need a way…to get into Seretei again." He cast his sights to the right, away from Yoruichi's nudity. "I need…to speak with Rukia. No grand adventure, no new foe, nothing. Could you handle that?"

"Who do you think you're talking to? Urahara and I could arrange that in a heartbeat."

"Tha-thank…"

"I'm not finished. Stand up."

"Wha-"

"I told you to stand up, Ichigo. Can you handle that?" There were traces of cold derision in her voice. Seeing no other options he did as he was bidden, struggling to do so with his hands fixed on his groin. He did his best to avert his gaze from her glistening form, although he could still feel those fiery eyes of hers drilling into his. "Look at me." Reluctantly, he did so, not knowing whether to be more intimidated by her body or her glare. She stood with her hands on her bodacious hips, looking rigid and fierce and beautiful all at the same time. Her hand shot forth from one slender, exquisitely muscled limb and landed on his shoulder, establishing a firm grip with no hint of tension in it. Ichigo braced himself for whatever retribution was coming his way.

In one fluid motion Yoruichi glided forward, wrapping her arms around Ichigo's trunk and resting her chin on his left shoulder.

"Ichigo Kurosaki, you are a fool, and for reasons I can't quite explain I have missed you greatly."

The apparent fool couldn't articulate a response. Strained fragments of words trailed out of his throat, but coherent phrases would not come. He was happy that his old teacher was glad to see him again, he really was. Despite his reservations he had always enjoyed her company, as well. But it didn't change the fact that a naked woman was clinging to him. Thankfully she had leaned forward to avoid any contact that was overly raunchy (in one of their opinions, at least) but her large, soft breasts were pressed up against his chest, causing Ichigo's face to blush like his own namesake.

"Yor-I-can you-uh-please-" He was helpless, and the violet-haired beauty was fully aware. She brought her mouth up to his ear, her lower lip just barely pressing up against it.

"You like?"

That was the straw that broke the camel's back. Jerking his entire body backwards, breaking the embrace and sending them both tumbling into the shallows. He landed once again on his ass, completely exposed, but was too livid to give a thought to his own notions of modesty.

"What is your PROBLEM?!" He was only a few feet from Yoruichi, who in surprise had lost her own balance and was sitting cross-legged facing him. His outburst bounced off of the stone walls, echoing many times over and sounding like a crack of adolescent thunder. "You had me going, too! I was ready to sit down and catch up with you, to let you know that I really was glad to see you again, but you had to go and do…_that_."

Yoruichi, puzzled as to why his fit had her so disoriented, merely asked:

"What do you mean by _that_?"

"I mean…I don't even know what I mean. What you just said, all of the things like that that you've ever said. You showing up here naked, your constant teasing, teasing, TEASING! I'm done with it."

"Ichigo…"

"No! I don't see you in all this time and you're first reaction is to make me feel like a piece of god-damned meat! Can't I even ask a fucking _favor_?"

"Of course you can, Ichigo, but I haven't-"

"Haven't _what_? All of this has been a misunderstanding? Please, explain how your twisted sense of humor has been benefiting me this whole time."

"But I wasn't-" _Wasn't what?_ She thought to herself._ Wasn't joking? Wasn't going to follow through?_ This had been the first time she had actively thought about what exactly went through her mind when she shamelessly flirted with Ichigo. "I wasn't doing it to hurt you." She said quietly.

"Oh, that's just fan-fucking-_tastic _to hear. You didn't _mean_ to disrespect my ideas of intimacy, it was just ignorance. How does someone overlook entire mindsets when it comes to…to…"

"Sex?" She interrupted, voice calm and even.

"Wh-wha…?"

"You meant sex, right?"

That made Ichigo pause. He didn't know if sex was the right term to describe it. He had never thought of Yoruichi's advances as actual attempts.

"I…I guess so." There was contempt in this phrase. He was uncomfortable introspecting about something like this, especially when he was the one who was wronged.

"You mean to say that I'm a slut, correct?" This caught Ichigo completely off-guard. "I have no shred of decency, no respect for others, or…" She spread her legs before him. "Myself? Is that what you're implying?" She let her hands come to rest on the ground between her legs, head hung low. Ichigo's temper was losing steam, fast.

"Yoruichi, I…I'm-"

"Don't be sorry. Anyone would have thought that in your place. After all, I probably fuck _everyone_ I take under my wing, right?" Her eyes started to water. "Just look at Soi-Fon, must have shown her a damned good time if she's so obsessed with me, and-and-"

"Kisuke?" Ichigo asked, unsure of how he should feel. She brought her head up to meet his gaze. What he saw there was something he had never known to exist in Yoruichi. If he didn't know better, he would have said that he had caught her in a moment of weakness. He felt sick all of a sudden. He had reduced her to this with his harsh words. Trying to reduce the tension, he said as casually as he could manage: "I…I always thought…there was something between you two."

Yoruichi let out a single laugh, more bitter than anything else.

"There's something, alright. But I wouldn't expect somebody like _you_, the most oblivious young man I have ever met, to understand." There was more irony than malicious intent in her voice, and for once Ichigo took her words the right way.

"And what…" He said hoarsely. "Makes me so oblivious?"

"You are _such_ a fool, Mr. Kurosaki." She said dismally. "You always had one girl or another tripping all over you, and dense as you are you never even realized." She finished, not quite insulting but adding a certain bite to her voice. Ichigo let out a long sigh.

"I think…that we should do that catching up, on second thought." Yoruichi raised her eyebrow at this comment. "As I said, you were right…I have special people in my life."

"People? Ichigo, I didn't mean family members…" She said, rolling her eyes.

"And I wasn't talking about them. I have…two…girlfriends." Saying it aloud was much harder than he had anticipated. His feelings for both were legitimate, and the girls, best friends as they were, were clear in their willingness to share Ichigo, but…there was the social stigma. He knew that it would make him look like a sleaze, and it was for this reason that he had tried to keep quiet about it. Unsurprisingly, a statement such as this snapped Yoruichi back into character to a degree.

"Why, Ichigo Kurosaki, you _dog_ you."

"It's-it's not like that." He said, not frantically or defensively. He was struggling to find the right way to explain it. "They aren't just anybody…it's Tatsuki and Orihime."

Yoruichi snorted. "Your best friend and the ginger?" She asked, incredulous.

"Y-yeah…"

"And how did _that_ happen, might I ask?" Her eyes, free of frustrated tears, danced with curiosity. The thought occurred to her to cover up her womanhood while interrogating the youth, but the boxers she had pilfered were floating three or four yards away, thanks to her earlier blunder. He seemed to be lost in thought, anyway.

"I…I guess…it just happened. There wasn't any huge proceeding, I just got together with Tatsuki one day."

"And what about the other one? I never thought she would actually get the courage to tell you how she felt."

"Well, you see-wait. You knew, too?"

Yoruichi merely smirked.

"How far out of the loop am I?" He put his hand to his forehead, completely unaware that he was leaving his privates exposed. "Anyway…that came a little later. Tatsuki told me…she told me that there are a lot of people that I need to talk to…a lot of people that have unfinished business with me. Orihime was the first…"

"Should I take that to mean that you intend to hook up with more than just those two little darlings?" There was a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"I told you, it isn't like that…"

"So, you haven't slept with either of them yet?" She was pushing it, she knew, but the topic was just to intriguing to let lay.

"Well…um…yes…both…but-but that's not the point! We're all together, making things work! It's not like they're just a pair of mindless bimbos…they mean a lot to me, and that's why I came here…" His brow creased. "I want everybody to have that closure, Yoruichi. I know that going to Seretei is a horrible idea; there was no safe way before and now I'll have to be a guinea pig for whatever Kisuke thinks up, but…I at least owe it to her to have one final talk, to get everything out into the open."

They sat in silence for a time, looking at everything except each other while they mulled over their thoughts. Yoruichi, in particular, was making some mental accommodations.

_Well, it had to happen sometime…_She felt a twinge of sadness in her chest._ Ichigo's a man grown, now. He doesn't need a teacher ordering him around anymore. Probably why he isn't taking any crap from me, now._ She had to admit, her behavior towards him was infinitely more amusing when he was a nervous virgin._ And how about that? Went and got laid behind my back…wait, what?_ She hadn't anticipated the surge of jealousy that accompanied that realization. _Slow down there, girl. It's not like you were intending to actually corrupt the poor guy, were you? Well, maybe get him to loosen up a bit, but…No, he's your student. Well, he WAS, anyway…_She stared at her reflection in the water, trying to sort through how what she had intended to do with him all that time ago, and more importantly, how she felt about his situation now.

Ichigo, as well, sat distracted by his own conflicting thoughts. _Is it right? I mean, I knew from the start that having more than one girlfriend would raise some eyebrows, but…saying it out loud I realize just how tough of a sell it is…_He'd been much too absorbed in enjoying the time spent with Tatsuki and Orihime to worry about what others would think, and a part of him wished it could have stayed that way. _I haven't even told my own dad yet…and someone like HIM would be happy for me…for all the wrong reasons._ He began to question his own morality. Was it possible that subconsciously he really WAS playing the two innocent girls? He was certainly glad that he had lost the ability to feel attracted toward Rukia within five seconds of meeting her, lest she be dragged into this mess. He managed to make it that far while completely ignoring Yoruichi's presence, which changed when she let loose a huge yawn, stretching her arms up into the air and pushing her chest forward.

The action caught Ichigo by surprise. He couldn't help but look, and for the first time he didn't shy away. He saw her in all her glory, from the large, rounded breasts with nipples darker than even her chocolate skin, to her exquisitely muscled limbs extending into the air above her and to the sides below. He saw her dark violet hair, let down and flattened with moisture, splaying out gracefully behind her and adhering to her collarbone like an intricate tattoo. He saw the bodacious curve of her waist to her hips even sitting down, and the perfectly toned muscles of her core that had come through years of arduous training and battle. Even her face belayed details he had never noted before: the look of weariness that any being would have if their lifespan stretched over centuries, the dappled-sunlight color that constituted her irises, the strong curves of her face that spoke of experience…

_She's a woman._ Ichigo concluded. _I'm absolutely crazy about two extraordinary girls, but this is a woman._ His exposed genitals started to stir. Attempting to push those observations into the back of his mind, Ichigo finally spoke up.

"So, what's the deal with you and Kisuke? The mention of him in that context made you upset, so…" He didn't know how to approach the subject tenderly. With women, sometimes there isn't a way to do so. Yoruichi's expression hardened, a cross between a scowl and a lamentation.

"We…it's…complicated. Kisuke and I have known each other for a very long time, Ichigo. Before either of us joined the Gotei Thirteen. He was a servant around the grounds, a boy who always found his way into things he was better off leaving alone. I guess that's what brought us together." She paused, an expression of fondness briefly passing over her features. "We both knew what we wanted to do. I had my birthright and he his ambition. We trained together, we accomplished so much even before we joined the divisions." She gestured all around them, indicating the springs and the training grounds beyond. Ichigo remained silent. "When you live as long as we do, Ichigo, you have a different timetable. Your 'I'll do it tomorrow's turn into something that needs done by next week, then next year, then a decade from then…sometimes, you just wait so long that the feelings that needed tended to just starve to death and wither away…"

"But you and Kisuke are so close. How can you say that there isn't anything between you?"

"It's not something that can be expressed through words, dear stu-sorry. But every time I look at him I know that this is how things have to be, and I have a feeling he's no less ignorant of the fact. Our days as love-struck youths came to an end, and by then it was time for life to take over. Even if we forced things to happen in this time of peace and plenty it just wouldn't feel right." She looked distressed, torn up inside, but not confused. The greatest antagonist of any being with emotions is truth. Concrete, absolute truth that doesn't always suit us. It was a long time before she could continue. "And you, Ichigo…in your early days as a fighter you reminded me so much of him…you were headstrong and always getting yourself into trouble. I guess…the reason I acted the way I did was to remind myself of old times, if anything. I used you, and didn't even realize it."

Ichigo felt a familiar sensation take hold of him. He saw somebody who had been battered by life, who had born their grief in silence, masking it with an excess of its root. How many times, he wondered, had she seen a young, blond version of himself when she went about her tempting? He felt as if steel wires in his chest were being stretched taut, fraying in the places they could hold no more. He felt…sorry for her. For Yoruichi, the strongest woman, and one of the strongest people he had ever known. She was witnessing the beginning of a story that had ended long ago for her.

His hand moved forward, seemingly of its own accord, and planted itself on her hunched shoulder. Her skin was as soft and smooth as velvet, and radiated warmth that he could feel even when surrounded by the steam and hot water of the spring. Her eyes rose to meet his, a look he had never seen before in them. It was a look of longing.

"You're not Kisuke." She said flatly. Ichigo nodded and began to retract his hand. There was a small splash as hers rose to grip it. "You are your own man, Ichigo Kurosaki. You're going to outshine every one of us someday, regardless of whether you're a shinigami or not." Her eyes quivered as her hold tightened. "Tatsuki and Orihime are…very lucky girls."

Ichigo felt his own eyes begin to water. He slid his arm backwards to take her hand in his.

"I'm…I'm scared, Yoruichi. I thought that my time on the battlefield would have prepared me for when people _depended_ on me, but I'm scared. I know that if I let them down…I just won't be able to forgive myself. If I don't lose either of them in the years to come, I have my entire life ahead of me to make mistakes, and I just _don't feel ready_." He spoke barely above a whisper but his voice carried an intensity that could not be overlooked. "I…I miss having somebody that _I _can lean on…"

Yoruichi couldn't take any more.

"You still do, Ichigo. You have two somebody's at home that are there for you always. Being in a relationship, it's a two-way street. To hell with chivalry, to the perfect housewife notion, you provide for _each other. _And you will always have this mess of a sensei to turn to." She snaked forth her free hand and took his, holding both out in between them as she clasped tightly. "You'll always have me…"

"What do you mean 'I'll always have you'?"

"I…I…" What _did_ she mean by it? She had completely disregarded his previous disappearance of months, why was she all of a sudden acting like she would be seeing him on a regular basis from now on? _NO. _She thought._ Bad kitty._

"Yoruichi?" Ichigo inquired again. She didn't have an answer.

"I…I think that we need to touch-STAY, in touch, and, uh, you should see more of me-ME MORE OFTEN, and-and-and-damn it…" _Motherfucking Freudian slips._ _WAIT. No, those mean you have unconscious desires, and I already said that that part of my life is over with. I've harassed this kid enough, anyways._

Her mental debate was interrupted by its own subject. He stood up and pulled her to her feet, as well before taking her into a tight, warm embrace.

"That sounds wonderful, sensei." If she hadn't been convinced before, this was her proof. Ichigo was no longer a boy, he was a MAN. The strength with which he held her, the confidence she could feel just by touching him…she melted in his arms, inhibitions aside and returned the hug, resting her head onto his chest. Although she did wonder when he would realize…

A jolt ripped through the man she stood up against. _There it is._

It had taken him the entire course of their conversation to realize that they were both completely naked. What was worse: there had been no leaning this time, and his manhood hung, wet and heavy against his old teacher's abdomen.

"I…I…you…" He seemed to get physically ill before falling straight back, an audible _smack_ accompanying his body's meeting with the stone floor of the spring. The water level had receded as they had caught up, it seemed. "Damn it…" He sat up, rubbing the back of his head before the therapeutic waters worked their magic on his newly-obtained wounds. Yoruichi was slightly offended, against her better judgment.

"I didn't mean to gross you out, Ichigo…come on, let's get out of here."

"You didn't…I mean, I enjoyed it, err…shit…I mean, I didn't MIND it, I just…" Yoruichi couldn't help chuckling quietly to herself, before a wonderfully foolish notion crept into her head, and another feeling that she couldn't quite identify. _Don't do it, old girl._ She advised herself even as the words came out of her mouth.

"Ichigo…you…you only started having sex about…what? A month ago, correct?" She asked, unsurprised at the meekness of her voice. The addressed blushed but didn't shy away from her eye contact.

"Yes, about…but it's not like we've been doing it like rabbits…I mean, we-"

"Don't worry, that's not what I was implying, dear." She said, almost unaware of the arguable pet name she had used. "I was just thinking…that maybe…" _I'm going to beat my own ass for this._ "I could be your teacher again." She bit her lower lip, the schoolgirl fluttering of her chest that hadn't existed since those long days with Kisuke rushing back into her with a force that made her think she might explode. She couldn't believe such a horrible notion had been suggested by _her_, when _she _was supposed to be the responsible adult. Ichigo just sat wading in the shallows, dumbstruck.

"You-you mean…?"

"Yes." She was the one who looked away, abashed at her own foolishness. _That wouldn't even have sounded good on paper. What the Hell is wrong with you?_

Ichigo went silent, staring down at the bedrock beneath the surface and apparently lost in thought. Yoruichi's anxiety amplified itself many times over in those deceptively long moments, cursing herself as she chewed on her lip. She was about to suggest that he forgot what she had said, that they put some clothes on and go get a bite to eat while discussing the course of action they would take for his prospective journey, when he finally spoke, barely audible above the cave's activity:

"Do you think it would help?"

The sincerity in his inquiry drove daggers into Yoruichi's heart. She knew what would have been the right thing to say. She also knew what she was about to say, and the two didn't match up. She should have dismissed it, moved on and got him on his merry way. But something about this situation, the here-and-now, that got her heart racing, her inhibitions lowered. Guilt was gnawing at the very core of her being, but she spoke out:

"Yes, it would help, Ichigo. You're young, still inexperienced…and they are, too. I've been around for considerably longer than they or you have, and I know…what a woman wants." Normal Yoruichi would have rolled that off of the tongue with seductive ease, made shivers run up and down his spine. But Yoruichi wasn't feeling normal right now, or perhaps the person everybody thought that they knew had a little more depth than met the eye. The two were naked in front of each other, talking about (_maybe even arranging_) sex, yet there was a sort of embarrassed innocence hanging in the air. "What I want." She choked out after a painful silence.

Ichigo wasn't nearly as shocked as she thought he would have been. He wasn't as shocked as he thought he would have been, either. His head was raised and his eyes were locked with those of his former teacher. He stood up, manhood hanging flaccid. There was no arousal right now; that could wait. But something odd was going down: Yoruichi seemed just as tentative as he was.

"What's…happening, Yoruichi?"

"I don't know, Ichigo. There was a system in place. My crudeness was balanced out by your being a prude."

"Hey, I-"

"Hush, child. I wouldn't have picked on you so much if you were just good looking, or if you were just incredibly shy. It was the combination, I guess…it was exhilarating, like hunting for sport. I got all of the thrill of chasing down a prize buck without having to shoot it. I was being a coward. I felt like a was back in the old days, with Kisuke, when we trained. I was displacing my suppressed feelings onto you, and I'm sorry. But time changes, as we can all see. My feelings for Kisuke receded into a heartbroken friendship long before I met you, and I realize now that I was playing with fire. I was fond of you, Ichigo; you were an even brighter student than Soi Fon, and at times a better friend than Kisuke. I just don't know if I ever drew the line. And now here we are. You're almost a full-grown man now, and I'm just some washed up old horn…cat." She chuckled dryly, but knew it wouldn't help her cause.

"Do you mean…that I'm not just a replacement? Not an object? Not some challenge?" Ichigo didn't know how he felt. He was uncomfortable, but not an idiot. He knew that a woman's mind was about as organized as a sandstorm and about as pleasant at times, but he could definitely tell that she was going out on a limb, here. "All of this time, I wasn't just embarrassed, I was _offended_ because I thought that you were insincere, that I was being mocked."

"And at first you would have been right, I enjoyed that satisfaction I got from it. It made me feel like I still had my game. It made me feel…young, again." She had never thought about it up until this point, but even by Shinigami standards, she wasn't getting any younger. She had eons to go before she submitted to the ravages of age, but she was at her peak and things would start to go downhill any time now. "It reminded me of what I gave up. But I just…teasing you became less about Kisuke and more about _you_ every time it happened…I don't know if I even admitted it to myself, but there's no denying now that everything's out in the open." As if to add ironic punctuation to her statement, she crossed her arms over her breasts timidly.

_The FUCK is going on with the women in my life?_ Ichigo wanted to place his hand to his forehead in exasperation but knew that it was inappropriate for the situation.

_The FUCK is going on with me?_ Yoruichi wanted to do the same. This…it just wasn't _like_ her. The words came pouring out, the thoughts jumping out of her mouth as soon as they were constructed, and there was nothing she could do to keep herself from jabbering her heart out. She didn't _love_ this kid. She didn't _love_ anybody. She was a loner, a glittering, unobtainable treasure that men wanted and women wanted to _be_. Why was she reduced to this pitiful, neurotic teenage girl of herself in front of somebody so non-threatening? _You don't love him, old girl. He's a fraction of your age, and TAKEN._

"So, is it a yes or a no?" _FUCK!_

Ichigo was again lost in thought. If Yoruichi hadn't been so caught up with her inner struggle for control, she would have seen just how mature he looked in that moment. She wasn't just as nervous as he was, she realized. She was MORE nervous. He tilted his jaw upward to stare at the ceiling, lips moving in practice of a phrase that obviously wouldn't be easy to say out loud.

"I need to know, then. Are you doing this just to teach?"

"No." She wouldn't lie. She couldn't.

"Good. I'm not doing this just to learn, either."

And with that he stepped forth and kissed her.

Yoruichi almost yelped in surprise. The meeting of his lips on hers was soft, warm, and inviting, but the shock of it actually happened sent a jolt through her body. He didn't falter. Ichigo placed his hands on her ridiculously curved hips and brought her forth to press against him. She wanted to cry out, to break away from his touch, only she didn't.

Instead she stood there, transfixed and let her eyes close. The strain that had weighed against her own sense of inhibition was gone now, like a broken levy letting a roaring torrent rush in all at once. All this, from just one kiss. _I'm in trouble._

Ichigo broke the kiss, a quiet smacking sound ensuing at the parting of their lips. She opened her eyes, almost disgruntled at having her moment in the sun disturbed, before she saw soft brown eyes waiting for her to meet their gaze.

"You think I would have been so indignant if I didn't want _something_ to happen eventually? I never told anybody, not even Tatsuki or Orihime, but…I used to have…the biggest crush on you…"

Yoruichi felt fit to burst. There was a fluttering in her stomach and a tingling down below. She had heard his words, had taken them to heart, was _euphoric_ to here them, but his actions screamed over top of them, and they said go, go, GO!

Throwing her arms up around his neck, she craned her head and gave him one of her signature, deliciously unsettling looks.

"No surprise. Most guys your age have been _hot for teacher_ at some point." Before he could retort or even understand the magnitude of her words she had once more closed the distance between them, her full lips mashing into his with gusto. Her breasts were packed tightly against his chest, the nipples hardening so quickly she thought she might hurt the poor kid. However, the swelling member that pressed against her provided all of the consent she needed to keep on.

Ichigo's hands snaked around to meet in the small of her back, lifting her up into their embrace. He had gotten the hang of making out quite fast over the past month or so, thanks in no small part to Orihime's obsession with foreplay that he was all to eager to let her indulge in. He sucked on her lower lip gently, feeling her heavy breathing blast over him whenever their mouths would briefly part. After a couple of minutes spent in this little cycle Yoruichi lifted her head, exposing her neck and pulling herself upwards in a graceful demonstration of litheness. Ichigo, by now, could drop such hints, and planted a kiss towards the base of her neck, right next to the shoulder, sucking just enough to let her know he was doing so.

"A little higher, Ichigo…" Her words came out as a sharp gust of wind, having next to no volume but cutting right through the sound of the pattering droplets that surrounded them. He did as he was told and started to trail his lips up and down, growing in intensity as he did so. If Yoruichi's skin had been as fair as Tatsuki's or Orihime's he imagined that there would be substantial evidence of his advances, but the smooth dark chocolate complexion she possessed remained unblemished and ever ready for more. Ichigo could feel her chest filling up and emptying as she took deeper and deeper breaths, and relished the softness of her chest against his pushing ever so gently forward and back with it.

He felt one of Yoruichi's hands dislodge itself from its place holding his the back of his head to grip one of his. At first he was worried that he had made a mistake in placing his hands there, and was about to stop necking his ebony goddess when he heard:

"If you stop you are _so _dead."

She guided his hand down to grip the crook of the back of her knee, raising her leg once he had a solid grasp. Her left leg was now curled up, the knee at the level of Ichigo's chest, much to his wonder and excitement. He was so impressed with this display of flexibility that he almost didn't notice the smoldering heat that was now pressed right up against his almost fully erect cock. Almost.

Ichigo sighed in gratification. He could feel the individual lips rubbing against his shaft, and something about being just short of the satisfaction that rested a few inches downward was maddeningly arousing. His heart picked up pace as carnal thoughts blocked out all else in his mind. On his own accord he let the hand that was still resting on her back slide down to take a copious handful of her considerable ass.

Not expecting this brash move, Yoruichi did a cross between a squeal and giggle. She didn't even care that she wasn't the only one leading things; she had a feeling that she would end up learning a thing or two by the end of their encounter, as well.

Even if she had slapped him square in the face, Ichigo wasn't so sure that he would have let go in any case. Yoruichi's ass was comparable to Orihime's boobs, in a way. It was massive, but not disproportionate, firm and round, and as smooth as the rest of her body. Ichigo couldn't understand why he had been so coy with her before; this bliss was a guilty pleasure he would have appreciated even in his hard-headed virginity.

Without warning Yoruichi pulled Ichigo's head back, gave him one long, needing look and jammed her tongue into his mouth. Ichigo didn't give a damn about how quickly things were escalating; he'd played nice before, perhaps getting a little raunchy was just what he needed to spice things up. He fenced tongues with her, wrapped his lips around hers and sucked on it, getting airy sighs and small sounds of delight from his partner. If she was going to teach him to be a bad boy, he'd give her exactly what she wanted.

Yoruichi herself started to move up and down, backward and forward using her one foot on the ground and two hands around Ichigo. The contact of their privates was making her soaking wet, and even the runoff from the spring's steam wouldn't wash away the hot mess that was brewing down below. She deliberately slid back and forth on Ichigo's member, knowing it was teasing him and gasping as the grinding stimulated her lips and clit ever more. If she hadn't known how much more they were capable of she would have been content to stay this way for hours.

However, she'd been around the block a few times and knew at least one thing she wanted the young man to learn in their little session. Softly breaking their contact and letting her leg come back down to the spring's bed, he slowly backed away, trailing her fingers along his chest as she did so.

"I think it's time for your lesson, Ichigo." The purr of her voice was back. Yoruichi had regained her edge, and despite the frenetic sexual energy radiating from both of them felt right at home, ready to take on the world, although it was Ichigo who would be presented with a challenge. Kneeling down and placing herself where the water was only an inch or two deep, she spread her legs once more, not quite in so innocent a fashion, considering she started to massage her clit as she smirked at the hormone-crazed adolescent. "You'll need to make an oral presentation, dear."

"Will this affect my final grade, ma'am?" Ichigo wasn't about to get left behind, not when the going was this good.

"I do believe that this will help you finish the course much more…_strongly._"

He didn't need any further goading. It was something he had been meaning to try, anyway, but actually asking to try something new wasn't something that had been particularly easy for he and his two angels. He wasn't in the habit of taking liberties, but still…

Getting down on all fours, he situated himself before the waiting form of Yoruichi, glistening with sweat and the moisture of the hot springs.

"Now, just loop your hands around my thighs, yes, like that…" Her sex was aching for him to start. Patience didn't seem to be a strong point of hers at the moment, but she did remember, somewhere in the recesses of her brain, that she was supposed to actually _teach_ the boy something.

Ichigo could only stare for a moment at the sight before him. Yoruichi's smooth, plump lips were pressed tightly together, not having known the touch of a man for quite some time. He felt a pang of guilt for having thought her a harlot before, but also realized this was as good a time as any to make it up to her. He looked up into her gleaming golden eyes before snaking out his tongue to run it over her drenched, hairless pussy.

The first thing that hit him was the taste. He'd heard plenty of guys from school complain about how nasty it could be down here, but this wasn't so bad…in fact, he could see himself enjoying it in the near future. It was robust, but not pungent; sweet in an earthy, natural sort of way that stayed on the tongue. The second was the heat. Before now, he had only felt the warmth of a woman engulfing his member, but when he ran his tongue, a much more sensitive muscle, over her dripping womanhood it felt like he was burying his face in a towel soaked with steaming water.

Yoruichi gave up her attempt at observation, throwing back her head and groaning considerably. It was just a little lick, no fancy tongue work, but it had been so long…or had she been waiting for so long? It didn't matter, because she had the kid right where she had wanted him: between her legs.

"That's good, Ichigo…Now, find my clit…yes, right at the top, spread the folds, it's right…mmmph…there…oooh…now, flick your tongue over…_it_…and…ah…oh, don't stop…yes, Ichigo, yes…try sucking on it, hun…oh, yeah, that's it…mmm, now take your middle finger and stick it…OH!" It was unclear of who was being more receptive: Ichigo to the information or Yoruichi to his application of it. She found herself arching her back, gulping in air and gasping it out, sending water splashing lightly around her. She let one hand venture downward to grip Ichigo's head, tousling his hair in sexual aggression. She found herself thrusting into his face, shouting out commands that were followed suite and that only intensified the burning sensation Ichigo had created.

The man of the hour was getting his fair share of excitement, as well. This wasn't nearly as hard as the urban myth portrayed it. In all actuality it wasn't so much different from simply making out with a woman. _Slip your tongue over and in the right places, work your lips a little, keep a steady rhythm and you're good to go. _Feeling Yoruichi's steaming slit pour and contract, even at his amateur approach gave him a sense of pride that fueled his sex drive, made him more confident and vigorous. His partner's advice, of course, only helped, although she was speaking less frequently now that he was hitting on some key points.

Two fingers were pumping smoothly in and out of her while the tip of his tongue flicked back and forth over her clit. Occasionally he took one of her lips in his mouth and sucked it (even he knew that one never, EVER uses teeth). One of his own hands left base camp to travel up his partner's sleek, heaving body to clutch at her left breast, squeezing it for both their pleasures. It was fair to say that Yoruichi was much more vocal than either Tatsuki or Orihime, having no reservations about getting caught and knowing that her sounds were nothing but a turn-on. Everything about her, the way she gave, received guided and followed emulated experience, and that in its own right was unbelievably sexy to Ichigo.

"Wait." A break in the sighs, gasps and squeals occurred as Yoruichi lifted Ichigo's head from her steaming womanhood. Ichigo complied, didn't complain as she unwrapped his remaining arm from around her thigh. There was a gleam of amusement in his eyes as she rolled over on the smooth stone floor of the chasm, got on all fours and he was, and raised her gorgeous, sizable rear to his face. "Continue." She said, a mischievous waiver in her voice. A little vague to be one of her "instructions", she knew, but she wanted to see just what the boy would "continue" into.

Ichigo didn't even stop to think. One of his hands darted between her legs, splaying out on her abdomen and sliding back until it ran over Yoruichi's aching sex. He didn't slip a finger in, decided that he would try his own hand at teasing his long-time temptress. Running his middle finger between her folds and letting his free hand clamp her exposed ass heartily, Ichigo leaned forward, planting a kiss between Yoruichi's shoulder blades while letting his member lay throbbing along her crack.

A rasping gust of breath whooshed out of her. She couldn't figure out what was making her such a lustful, mindless slave to the flesh. The fiery-headed young man was good for a beginner; he had always been a quick learner, but it wasn't as if he was a master. His hands were inexperienced, more raw desire than calculated mischief. But for some reason Yoruichi felt as if she, too, were new to this around him. There was a subtle difference between his touch and Kisuke's…or anybody else's…it drove her mad with frustration, but she couldn't get enough of that sensation. She felt as if she could let loose, be reckless and indulgent and illogically sentimental right here in this alcove, thrashing about in the hot water with the student she had always been (perhaps more than) fond of.

"Do you like that, ma'am?" Ichigo whispered, trying his best to sound throaty and seductive. It wasn't his thing, but he supposed now was as good a time as any to give it a swing. In truth, he didn't know what exactly he meant by it, but it got a desirable response nonetheless.

"Stop beating around the bush, Ichigo." There was a tone in her words that commanded authority, but not harshly. "Show me…" She said, trailing off as she deliberated on her next statement. "Show me what a man you've become." She didn't say it to antagonize, she didn't say it to be naughty. There was almost a sense of urgency in her voice, not desperation but a recognized need that couldn't go unfulfilled.

Ichigo took a deep breath, looking her over one last time before he commenced. He straightened back up, seeing her violet hair, hanging straight down and shimmering, the sheen of the spring's condensation covering her luscious dark skin, the insane curve of her hips, back and parts below, the way her breasts just barely scraped against the pool floor…He took it all in as he leveled his member with her waiting slit and tilted forward.

"Ooooooh…" She let out one, long moan as he sank his cock into her. He could see the muscles of her lower back tense up, and then release with a satisfaction that mirrored the sound she made. For a few moments he stayed still, his erection half-buried within Yoruichi, savoring the grip her pussy had on him. When Yoruichi regained control of her voice box, she looked back to him, a sultry expression on her face. "Don't just idle, Ichigo. Get one foot up on the ground…no, not like that, face it to the right, yes, like that. No, no, keep your hand there…"

Ichigo felt a little embarrassed to be tutored at a time like this; he had hoped that he would have gotten a good premise on something that he had been doing for a month. However, there was nothing to be done, and sure enough when he started to thrust into his voluptuous partner he found greater ease and a more natural feel to it then he had previously experienced.

"Yes…just like that…" Yoruichi said airily, and then fell silent. The task was up to Ichigo now to prove himself. He firmly grasped her by the hips as he pumped in and out of her, excited and curious as to how this new position would play out for him. While he was normally as chivalrous as he could be, he had to admit that there was something that pleased the animal within about sex this way.

In fact, this whole encounter was somewhat more…animalistic, than what he had done with Tatsuki and Orihime. It felt unrestrained, out in the open, no shyness to speak of. Yoruichi was supposedly teaching him to become a better lover, but the central dogma of this "lesson" seemed to be to do what came naturally, whatever felt the best. Stow the pillow talk, the smooth jazz, and cut right to the wicked, wonderful chase. He didn't expect there to be any complex techniques or crazy maneuvers involved, but this flowing simplicity seemed too good to be true. _Have I been over-thinking all of this? Have I just been afraid to do what my body wants, what theirs' want?_ He had to admit that their was some primal, intrinsic satisfaction that accompanied the furious love-making he and his teacher were sharing. _Is this what sex was meant to be?_ It wasn't a self-questioning, melodramatic philosophical debate. He hadn't been at it nearly long enough to have an idea of what it should _mean_, and he hated to admit that the physical pleasure of taking an old crush doggy-style was just as gratifying as the intimate throes of passion that he had shared with his two playmates. The only other explanation was…

_Oh, god, please don't go there…_ Ichigo berated himself even as he picked up the pace with which he fucked the object of his thoughts. _You have TWO, Ichigo. They're best friends, and even that's a stretch. You…you shouldn't even be doing this._ But try as he might, his hips kept on their carnal rhythm, and he couldn't help but throb with arousal at the way Yoruichi rocked back and forth in time with him, her ass jiggling erratically with each meeting of their groins. Ichigo's superego was failing him; his id was taking over. At least, that's what he _hoped _was going on, for his sake.

"Come on, come on, COME ON!" Yoruichi was gasping now, her lungs straining to keep up with her body's demands. Ichigo had never stopped to think how physically exhausting intercourse was by its very nature. He found himself taking greedy gulps of air and expelling them just as sharply as she. "Don't stop, don't you _fucking _stop, Ichigo…"

_Not quite the instructor-type, at the moment._ Ichigo observed, with a grunt containing traces of both amusement and lust. He hunched forward, rocketing back and forth so hard that his balls started to slap up against her abdomen. It should have hurt, he thought, but they were taught with the product that would later come spewing out, and the endorphins raging through his body inhibited negative feelings of any kind anyways. He was no precision machine; he almost slipped out several times over a three-or-four-minute period, but the raw energy within him couldn't be contained.

All of a sudden Yoruichi stopped. It only took a few seconds for Ichigo to do the same. He was about to ask what was the matter when she rose off of her hands to her knees, gripped the back of his and did a sort of backward tackle, sending him to the wet floor with her laying on top of him, facing up. He was still inside of her, and the angle that she had his member bent at caused him a sort of pain that was all too sweet to feel.

"Ichigo…" There was no tease in her phrase. She craned her neck back to rub her cheek up against his, eyes closed and letting out a sharp sigh. "Let's finish this."

She sat up, keeping his cock buried within her. Her legs splayed out far to either side of him, and she hunched over, placing her hands next to each other on the ground between Ichigo's legs, arms almost completely straight. The gentle contour of her spine could be seen standing out in the small of her back. She took a few deep breaths and then went to work.

The dark-skinned beauty started moving smoothly up and down, a perfect piston on top of his erection. She had curled herself in a way that he slid straight in and out of her tight vaginal walls, hilt to head without a hitch under her steady intuition. Ichigo's head pressed hard against the cavern floor backing it and gritted his teeth. This felt better than oral sex, to him. The animal power that had been behind his strokes was present in the woman riding him, but there was a mechanical grace to her, as well. He could practically feel the experience sliding up and down over his shaft. A wet slapping sound accompanied her rear colliding with his crotch, more intense than the thudding that had gone along with his taking of her.

"Don't let me do all the work, Ichigo…" He heard her choke out. There wasn't any authority in her voice this time. No commands, not even instruction. She needed this, needed it bad, and wasn't even trying to hide it at this point. It had been a long time since she had been made love to, even longer since it had been this intense both physically and otherwise, and although Ichigo didn't want to admit it there was an emotional aspect to this encounter that he couldn't ignore, himself.

He didn't need told what to do. As Yoruichi had done, he reciprocated the pattern, thrusting upwards as she came down and pulling back just so much that he would stay inside of her. Their thrashing was making quite a ruckus; the clashing of their loins and the moans and grunts escaping the two all but drowned out the cavern's activity. Ichigo once again clasped her by the hips and aided her in the act, only helping to build their consummation to a fever pitch.

"Yes, yes, yeeees…faster, faster, COME ON, BABY!" Yoruichi screamed, her voice resounding throughout the alcove and out into the training grounds beyond. He felt her pussy squeeze him with a death grip, and then relax, a stream of hot liquid pouring down over his cock. That was all it took. The immense pressure he had held back through sheer force of will broke past his futile restraints and shot a stream of cum up into his old teacher, before all the strength left him and he lay still on the cave floor. With a throaty moan Yoruichi, too, reclined back, resting on Ichigo for a moment before rolling over to rest in front of him, his softening manhood still within her. She threw an arm behind her head, clasping Ichigo's hair to bring him close to her turned head for one, long kiss before their lips parted and they lay, foreheads pressed together and borderline hyperventilating in the warm shallows.

Ichigo's head was swimming. He couldn't seem to organize his thoughts, or even hold onto one long enough to elaborate on it. One thing was clear: He should have felt guilty, but he didn't. He had heard stories of the horrors of infidelity, of the general wrongness that anybody could feel when they took part in it, but something about this moment, this instance of creature-comfort that came after what was arguably the most physically pleasing (and taxing) sex of his young life spoke to the contrary. He felt content, resolved, free of burden.

Also, Yoruichi's final choice of words. _Did she call me…baby? _She had called him dear, and even hun not just throughout their session, but here and there since she had known him. But _baby_…something about that specific pet name reeked of familiarity, _affection_…

And the final thing that stood out sharply against his fragmented conscious: How the _HELL_ was he going to explain this to Tatsuki and Orihime? Lying was out of the question; he wouldn't keep secrets from them. But it wasn't as simple as saying _I cheated _or _Yoruichi taught me some things…for you._ It wasn't just for them. He had _enjoyed_ it, and not just because it was sex. He had enjoyed having it with _her_, making love to _her_. And he was damn well sure at this point that his dark-chocolate bombshell had taken some pleasure from it, as well. Still, he should have been panicking about all of these things, but couldn't bring himself to worry over any of them.

"So, did you feel it, too?" Yoruichi asked, without opening her eyes. Ichigo was done playing coy.

"Yes, I felt it."

"I guess there's nothing to be done. You sure as hell _are not_ a replacement for Kisuke, dear Ichigo."

"I have absolutely no clue what you are to me, Yoruichi." He said, unabashed.

"And that doesn't surprise me at all. I kind of put the jump on you, in more than one way. But…but I think you should know that I've been around a lot longer than you have, and I haven't felt this way in a _long_ time."

"I can't say the same. I've felt this way two times within the past month." Yoruichi chuckled, but knew he was being serious.

"You just can't seem to catch a break, can ya? All these gorgeous women falling for that carrot top, those big brown eyes, that delicious sense of _honor_ you have." It was Ichigo's turn to laugh.

"I don't know what to do. I don't know how many feelings that I've hidden away, that could make a grand entrance like these ones. That's what scares me more than anything that could go wrong, Yoruichi. What could go _right_ is so much more inescapable."

"Then just let things be as they were meant to. When the leaves fall off of the trees in Autumn, you can't hope to catch them all, and even then you can't put them back onto the branches. All you can do is stand and marvel at the beauty, or rake them into piles and jump right in. Your choice." She rolled once more, Ichigo's member sliding flaccid out of her as she did so. She laid facing him, her impossibly large, golden, feline eyes searching his for an answer that neither had. She sighed. "Well, I don't suppose there could have been a _worse_ time for this to happen. Even if you didn't already have two girls of your own, you're about to go to Seretei for a third, at the very least."

"That's not-"

"Hush. Ichigo, I would never rob Tatsuki and Orihime of what they have with you. They have more of a right…they struck when the iron was hot. I'm an intruder even if everything works out."

"If everything works out?"

"…Yes. I…I want this to happen again. Over and over, until you're gray in the hair, die, come to Seretei to do it over and over again until I crumble into dust. There was something…different, about this. When I fooled around with Kisuke in my younger days I knew that I felt love, but that right there…I wouldn't call it love, not right now, at least, but something about it made it some of the best sex I have ever had. And I've been around for quite a while." She paused for a moment, before adding: "Not that it's all about the sex. I had better see you around regardless of how things pan out from here." She added with a sheepish smile unbefitting of the predator that she was.

"I understand, Yoruichi. I adore both Tatsuki and Orihime, and I refuse to say that I love them before I know for sure, but there is something wonderful and unique that I feel when I'm with either of them. And…with you." He said, with a hint of resignation. "My head is calling me a player, but my damned heart just won't shut up."

Both were silent for a lengthy stretch of time.

"I've always thought it odd." Yoruichi mused aloud. "How humans associate emotions with the heart. All the joys and sorrows of life you attribute to a muscle, a pacemaker that wants to remain flat and constant all of the time. It's not even the strongest muscle in the body." She stuck out her tongue, partially for emphasis and partially for teasing. "I guess it's just any sentient being's need to separate what they want to do and what they _should _do. Although, in the end of the day they usually turn out to be the same thing, it's just these preconceived notions of honor, modesty, piety that try to suppress what nature intended us to be."

"But…without a code of honor, what can a man call himself?"

"Yep, there's the catch. Women love a chivalrous man, and at the same time they like a big, tough guy who doesn't take shit from anybody. Just like men, at the same time, want a defenseless damsel in distress that they can pamper and protect and a raunchy tomboy that has no reservations about hopping into the sack." These words struck home with Ichigo, and he wasn't even sure if Yoruichi had realized the magnitude of them. He had both. He knew that he was crazy about them for different reasons, but he hadn't stopped to consider just why they had gravitated towards him. Each of their relationships had started way back before things had even acquired a notion for romance, and developed into a symbiotic arrangement that suited the meshing of their personalities. Orihime was a delicate flower who needed a patient, caring guardian and Tatsuki was simply a wolf who needed a dependable mate in the pack. But what about him? Why couldn't he just be satisfied with one aspect?

_Because, you fool, of biology._ Ichigo's imaginary Zangetsu/Hollow started reproaching him._ Women can only have one child at a time, but men can procreate all damn year round. That's the natural order of things. You've done plenty to become top dog, so you get first pick of the females in the pack._ Ichigo wanted to shake it off, but he knew that arguing with himself wouldn't yield any results. It made sense, after all. His heart, his id, his biological motor aimed to please across the board, to take care of as many as it could. _In certain cultures, polygamy is an __**obligation**__ to the community. You take on as many wives as you can care for so that nobody gets the short end of the stick._ But Ichigo wasn't in some faraway society. He wasn't housing these women, he wasn't even sure he had the means to physically provide for more than two (hell, even two). He wanted to be around them because it made him feel good, in one way or another, and he knew it made them feel good, as well. So, to hell with these social norms, he would do what made everyone happy in the end.

"Yoruichi." He said, his voice steady and even. "I want to be with you. But there is one thing that needs to happen first."

"You want Tatsuki and Orihime's blessing." She had been having a similar debate within her mind. She didn't see them as competitors or antagonists; if anything she was the incoming danger.

"Yes. I don't see any other way. But still, I have no clue what I'm going to say."

"You don't have to say anything. I want you to go to Seretei and do what you came here to do. I'll go to them myself and explain things. Even if things go down the drain, women get a lot more satisfaction from tearing each other apart than a man that has made a stupid, man-ish mistake." She sat up, and winked at him. "Now why don't we go find some clothes for you. Sorry about soaking your skivvies, but the opportunity was just too good to be passed up."

A pang of irritation shot through his head, but subsided after a moment.

"All right, can we just gather them up? I can't blow any more ramen money on replacement clothes."

"I can do you one better. Go gather them up and I'll be back soon with some of Kisuke's old clothes from his room. They'll fit you well, and I bet you'll look damned sexy in them." She said, with a malicious gleam in her eye. That one statement tied Ichigo's innards into knots.

"Don't even joke like that, baby."


	4. You've got some 'splainin to do

_Poo-too-weet?_

"Ungh…"

_Poo-too-weet?_

"Shut up!"

Tatsuki Arasawa rolled over in bed, clutching a pillow to the upward-facing side of her face to drown out the piercing sound that had dragged her out of unconsciousness. She had no idea what it was, where she was, or for that matter, _who_ she was. All that mattered was that some irritating little nuisance had interrupted her slumber, and for that she demanded blood. Such was custom for a teenager's Saturday morning.

_Poo-too-weet? _The high-pitched inquiry rang out once more. Groaning, the adolescent propped herself up on the mattress to observe her beauty sleep's disturbance, free hand groping wildly for something that could serve as a projectile. Unfortunately, she had laid on the side of the bed lacking a nightstand, so Miss Arasawa found herself clutching groggily at empty space.

"Mmm…Ichigo…" She heard a dainty whisper from behind, just now noticing a pair of arms wrapped around her trunk. One piece of information came whizzing back into her mind at the mention of a certain berry-head's name.

_Ichigo's…I'm at Ichigo's…I spent the night._ Her rage temporarily subsided, and she let the comforting warmth of her bedfellow radiate onto her, ignorant of the incessant whistle that had disrupted her habitual weekend sleep-in. However, a few other key factors presented themselves soon after as Tatsuki's head cleared. _I crashed on the couch last night. That isn't Ichigo's voice…wait, Ichigo isn't even HERE._

A pang of fear shot through the young woman, and she gave a small yelp as she whirled around once again, ready to wail on whoever had their dirty mitts on her body. She didn't know whether she would find a criminal, a homeless person, Ichigo's perverted stuffed animal, but it was safe to say that one of the most obvious and non-threatening possibilities had eluded her half-second appraisal of her predicament.

In the place of calculating, beady eyes she found a set of large, round ones, piercingly grey and blinking away sleep and disorientation. A huge gust of wind escaped Tatsuki in a sigh of relief.

"Good morning, Orihime." She said, in much higher spirits than she had woken up with.

"Tat-Tatsuki…'morning…" A wide, almost childish grin spread across the redhead's features as she rubbed her eyes with now-dislodged hands. "You're not Ichigo." She said, almost drunkenly. The addressed chuckled at her longtime friend's observation.

"Sorry to disappoint, but I'm guessing that he took his leave before either of us were awake. Punk didn't even give a kiss goodbye." She said with the usual, moxie charm, but inwardly did feel a tad hurt.

"He…he didn't forget us, Tatsuki." Orihime responded with a gaping yawn. "I remember…I think I remember…him carrying me in here. It was late; it might have just been a dream." She conceded, without a hint of distress in her voice. "But even him leaving shows that he didn't forget, doesn't it? I mean, it's more or less because of us that he's going to Seretei."

"Well, I guess that explains why I woke up in a different place than I dropped. Usually, that's bad news for a girl." She gave Orihime a sideways smirk. Pausing for a moment, she ventured forth: "What do you mean you 'could have been dreaming?"

Orihime blushed mildly, wringing her hands as she gazed downward.

"Lately, I've been seeing Ichigo in my sleep an awful lot." She glanced up at Tatsuki with a sheepish smile. "More than I used to, even."

"Oh, Hime, that's-"

"But they aren't…they aren't- the same kind. These ones…I wouldn't feel comfortable sharing with Sora, if you know what I mean…" This caught the raven-haired beauty off guard.

"You mean…?"

"Yeah…" Orihime's face was reddening deeply. "I don't know…I never thought that I'd be the kind of girl that would have…_that_…on my mind all the time, but now that it's a reality, I guess…oh, I just don't know."

There was an awkward silence left hanging in the air between them, broken only by the shrill interjection from what Tatsuki guessed was outside the window. _Poo-too-weet? _

"Orihime."

"Yes?"

"It's okay to…It's okay to have these thoughts. It's only natural. And I understand why you're hesitant to embrace these feelings…these urges. I have them, too. Now that there's no boundary between how we see Ichigo as a friend, and…more than a friend, and that it's okay to want him in that way, I can't say that I don't think about it. But there's one thing that keeps me from pouncing on him every time we meet up, and that's-"

"Me."

Tatsuki's eyes widened. _So we ARE on the same page. Hime, you're more grown-up than people give you credit for…than I give you credit for._

"That's a bit oversimplified, Hime, but yes. Even when he and I…get together…there's a little reservation because I don't want him to develop a favorite. But, I know that he's not that kind of guy, so I can't figure out why I'm so worried about it."

"It's just the idea that there's more than one of us, Tatsuki."

"You've given some thought to this, haven't you?"

"Well, since Ichigo and I don't see each other as much as you and he do, it gives me a little time to reflect on what our time spent together means." A twinge of guilt pulled at Tatsuki at her friend's declaration. "Normally, when a man likes more than one woman they become competitors. It's hardwired into us genetically, I suppose. But we…we could never harbor such bitter feelings for each other, and I guess that this reverse mindset is taking us in an opposite direction, where we start to view _ourselves_ as intruders. Ichigo and I…when we're together, even when we…yeah…I don't feel dirty, like I'm stealing him from you, but part of me wants to insist that it just isn't right."

"I…I know what you mean. When I see you, I don't feel jealous, or angry or anxious. When I look at you I see the same sweet girl I've always known. And I must say…I'm glad that out of any other person in the world I'm sharing Ichigo with you."

"And I you, Tatsuki. But I think the dreams have been telling me something."

"Eh?"

"Do you remember Morita's psych class, our last year together?"

"Yeah, he was that teacher with the frizzy brown hair and the lisp, right?"

Orihime giggled, making a mental caricature of the man in question.

"Yes, but I was referring more to what we covered. Someone, I think it was Freud, called dreams 'The Gateway to the Unconscious'. And in these dreams, it's not just Ichigo and I, and it's not just sex. There are always others around, sometimes I know who they are, sometimes they're just blurry figures, but I know what they're there for. I mean…I find myself in these situations-"

"Orihime, what are-"

"No, not _that!_" She cried out, exasperated. "I just…I'm not the only one, but I know that I don't mean any less to him because of it. Tatsuki…we sent him to Seretei to talk with Rukia, to sort things out. And I think we BOTH know what can end up happening."

Another long pause ensued.

_Poo-too-weet?_

Tatsuki finally spoke up.

"I…I've been trying not to think too much about it. I'm fine with Ichigo being shared between the two of us, because I trust him…and I trust you. But if he brings back Rukia…if he gets sidetracked, if he ends up getting into _more_ trouble than we prepared for…"

"Then we need to buckle down and find a way to make it work. Tatsuki, I've never thanked you…you didn't have to make Ichigo come to me, hear me out, let me into his life…and yours. I know that there's a possibility that he'll bring Rukia back; at the very least they'll come to an understanding. I also know…that there are others besides us and her that have had an eye on him, and normally it would be first-come, first-serve, but we've already broken those rules. If somebody missed out on the closure that Ichigo has brought us, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself. Tatsuki, I'm not a _girl_ anymore, I need to learn how to be stronger, how to handle myself and others for all of our sakes."

Tatsuki herself was speechless. She adored Orihime; like a best friend, like a sister. But even she had never known the extent of the activity that went on below the auburn-haired princess's exterior. Some thought she was fragile, immature, even whiny, but none other than her, Ichigo and a scant few otherwise knew the great weight she always bore. The death of her brother, the demeaning prospect of helplessness in the face of battle, the frustration of loving a man who had never acknowledged your passion…they took their toll even on the most naïve, and it was safe to say that the ruse was up. As much as Orihime's charm was derived from her innocence, the time had come for her to take the reigns of her own life, to seize what she wanted unfailingly and unapologetically.

_So the dreams she's been having really are showing what's going on beneath the surface._

"Well, now that that's out of the way-"

_Poo-too-wEEEEE-_

The shrill alarm outside the window screamed out for a few seconds, accompanied by a wild fluttering, then went silent. Tatsuki waited a few seconds for the infernal chirping to resume, but when no such hindrance came to the ear she decided to see for herself. Swinging her legs out over the side of the bed, she let her feet hit the cheap, faded brown carpet of Ichigo's bedroom and proceeded to the window, squinting at the harsh sunlight that poked through the vertical blinders splayed down over it. Parting them, she looked out onto the street to see what had been rubbing her nerves raw, and what had happened to it.

A bird, some small brown puffball, had been perched on a streetlight. There usually wasn't a whole lot of biodiversity in this mash-up of steel and asphalt, so Tatsuki felt a little humbled at her earlier anger at the dawn's soloist. More so when she saw what had befallen of it.

Wings hung limply and pinpricks of red dotted its downy form. This brutality against such a defenseless creature was unsettling in its own right, but what sent chills crawling up and down Tatsuki's spine was the gaze of the perpetrator. To the young lady looking out the window it was nothing more than a stray cat, black as midnight with fierce yellow eyes, but even to the ignorant belle something seemed amiss.

"What is it, Tatsuki?"

"N-nothing. A cat nabbed a bird, that's all." Tatsuki turned back around to try to figure out just what unnerved her so, but the cat had disappeared, and with it its prey, leaving nothing more than a couple of tiny blood splatters on the dingy sidewalk.

"Oh…well, gotta eat to live, gotta kill to eat, I guess."

"I don't think that's the exact-"

_Knock, knock._

"Oh! Let me get it!" Before any objection could be made Orihime was up off of the bed, fixing her hair as she left Ichigo's room to greet whatever guest had made an appearance.

_Same old Hime…growing up, for sure, but you never can shake off your roots._ Tatsuki couldn't help but take comfort in the fact that she had Orihime by her side, as well as Ichigo. A woman's touch was sometimes necessary in resolving certain issues, and besides, she enjoyed the other's company in the first place. Much in the same way Ichigo took pride in looking after her, she liked the prospect of watching over Orihime, maturing woman though she was. She had always envisioned herself as being the more dominant one in a relationship, anyways, and while she certainly had no problem letting Ichigo be top dog, she did naturally assume the leadership role between the two girls, arranging their final get-together, and beyond that even Ichigo's little trip. _Oh, Orihime…I'm glad you're here. It lets me feel like a caretaker. Ichigo's a friggin' concrete pillar, and I may be full of piss and vinegar but I love that you bring a little class to the table…_

There was another aspect of this relationship arrangement that appealed to Tatsuki, although she wouldn't admit it. She never had to feel alone. When Orihime had been abducted and taken to Las Noches, Ichigo had charged right in to save her. Tatsuki had been left in the dark, and short two of her best friends. Now, with Ichigo gone off on one of his adventures she still had somebody, a good friend…or did this make them more than friends, now?

_I am NOT a lesbian._ Tatsuki declared to herself mentally, leaving no room for inner debate. Being as serious an athlete as she was, and never having committed to a boyfriend she had been the target of many unkind accusations over the years, and while she could blow off the girls and knock down the guys, the stinging sensation left by all of the _dyke_'s and _carpet-muncher_'s had taken their toll. She normally considered herself an open-minded person, in fact, she thought that the homophobia present in society was over-hyped and unfounded. The fact of the matter was that she was comfortable around both sexes; male or female, it didn't matter. She knew for a fact that she was only sexually attracted to men. But women…they did have their own nuances that shone through at times. Even earlier that morning, when she had awoken with Orihime clinging to her, there was no offense, no awkward breaking of contact. If she hadn't been so shocked at the fact that someone was holding her in the first place she might have laid there embracing her best friend for a little while longer. _I am NOT a lesbian._ She told herself again, and the words rang true to her once more. _But…if I'm in a relationship with Ichigo I'm also with her, in one way or another. _Did relying on Orihime emotionally make her any more of a homosexual than someone who would rely on her physically? Convention would say no, that two friends of the same sex exist solely for emotional support and would be two normal, heterosexual individuals. _But convention doesn't apply here…_ In any case, she knew that she was in no danger of trying anything indecent on her princess, but there was still the question of exactly where that left the two girls at a personal level.

"Tatsuki…you should come out here." She was interrupted from her thoughts by the young woman on her mind. Running her hands through her own hair and rubbing her face briefly to lift some of the weight from her drooping eyelids, Tatsuki did what was asked of her.

A crippling sense of déjà vu hit the lass when she rounded the empty doorframe (Ichigo technically still lived alone, so what need was there for extra privacy in his humble abode) to see Orihime and their mysterious visitor. On the couch sat the fair redhead, hands folded on her lap, and on the other…

_No, it can't be. Your mind is playing tricks on you._

There sat a woman with the same vicious, golden gaze and if at all possible, the same predatory expression that had emulated from the cat Tatsuki had just seen. Her swarthy complexion and disheveled violet hair stood a stark contrast to the oversized, plain white tee she wore, which stretched down to mid-thigh. Tatsuki couldn't help noticing that it was her only garment, so simple and scant, but the feline woman pulled off a sort of primal elegance nonetheless. Tatsuki got the feeling that she would be no less respectable wearing nothing at all. _NOT a lesbian._

"Tatsuki, I don't think you two have met. This…is Yoruichi Shihoin. She's a friend of Ichigo's." The morning's guest leaned forward and outstretched her hand, the V-neck cut of her shirt exposing a healthy portion of her cleavage.

"It's a pleasure." Yoruichi said, the phrase flowing smoothly from her tongue with all the grace and concealed danger of a silver blade. Tatsuki wanted to distrust this woman, knowing what sort of people Ichigo had dealt with in his days as a shinigami, but something about her demeanor…the way she carried herself, half-naked but dignified nonetheless, commanded her respect. She gave a hearty grin and shook the offered hand.

"Tatsuki Arasawa, and the pleasure is all mine."

Tatsuki took a seat in between the two, facing the dark-skinned stranger and trying her best to reciprocate the confidence that was presented to her. It didn't matter that she had only met her a couple of seconds prior; there was something about this woman that excited her, that begged inquiry.

"So, you and Ichigo know each other? And I'm guessing that Orihime is an acquaintance of yours, as well?"

"Correct on both counts." Tatsuki could have sworn that the words came out as a purr. There was something dancing in those glittering eyes of hers that she couldn't quite decipher…amusement, maybe? Anticipation? Anxiety? Three A's that probably wouldn't pan out well for her.

"Yoruichi is an associate of Kisuke Urahara." Orihime piped in, seemingly ignorant of the enigmatic vibes being put out by their guest.

"You mean that perverted Shoten clerk?"

Yoruichi burst out laughing.

"The one and only! Glad to see that we don't have _quite _much to catch up on." She seemed to remember something at the utterance of those last few words, and some of the gusto she had embodied seemed to leak out of her. "Anyways…I've come here-"

"If you wanted to talk to Ichigo, he isn't here."

"He's off on an _adventure_." Orihime added, giggling at her own supposed wryness.

"That…" Yoruichi started. "I am aware of." The girls' ears perked up. "I have a story for the two of you to hear, and I think it might be a good idea for you to remain seated."

The three sat in silence. Yoruichi had recounted all of it: the argument in the spring, the discussion they had shared…what else they had shared…it was all out on the table. Nobody could think of what to say next. Yoruichi had lost most of her bravado; she now seemed just as insecure as the two women she had stepped in upon. After a few minutes of bashful speechlessness she said quietly:

"I understand if you two hate me. Ichigo and I…we don't go nearly as far back as either of you, and I'm sorry if what I've done has ruined any of the trust you've built up. But I…I'm not sorry for what I did in the first place. You two have snagged yourself a great guy, and if you want this whole setup to be as exclusive as possible I won't argue; I'll lay off and you won't have any further trouble from me. But what happened between he and I felt…right, for lack of a better term. It felt more right than anything I've had in a long time. You, Tatsuki, and you, as well, Orihime…you're young. You have plenty of time to make mistakes, to let life hit you hard. But let me tell you, as washed-up as I am I can tell you that what you have right here and now isn't worth compromising for anything. Regardless of whether you want to make me part of it or not I don't want you to get angry at Ichigo. He's…he's done more than his fair share."

Tatsuki was absolutely dumbfounded. She knew what risk she was taking by sending Ichigo off on this little crusade of his, but those consequences had seemed so far away, and she had only been thinking of Rukia! The very morning he had left, she receives word that another old flame has been rekindled, and that very spark made its way to them to ask their _permission_? She didn't even know this woman; how was she supposed to trust her? How did she know she was even telling the truth? And why wasn't she fuming?

Orihime sat looking at the ground, completely unreadable for once.

Usually, when a man has sex with a woman outside of the confines of his relationship there is Hell to pay. The woman in question is denounced as a tramp, garbage unworthy of redemption, and the man is pronounced either stupid, single, or both on the spot. But again, this situation permitted somewhat less normalcy than was typical of a monogamous pairing. When both of the girls involved weren't sure if they, themselves were the tramp there would be less room for name-calling and hasty judgments.

"Miss Shihoin." Tatsuki finally spoke up.

"Hm?"

"You say…that you wanted to teach him."

"Yes…although, there was more to it than that, and both of us knew it."

"You…you wanted to teach him, _what_? How to please a woman? How to talk her down? How to pour your heart out? What?"

"I'd be lying if I told you that I knew precisely what I wanted him to learn, because I have a feeling that I gained just as much insight this morning from our encounter. I just…I wanted to tell myself that I was just doing it for sex, that I was scratching an itch so that I wouldn't have to deal with it ever again, but I don't think that's what we pulled out of the experience…no, I think that we left a mark on each other that won't go away any time soon."

"So…Ichigo's changed?" It was Orihime who asked this question. There wasn't any strain in her voice, no tears in her eyes. She actually seemed to be the most level-headed among them at the moment. "Is he a different person now?"

"No. No! Of course not, Orihime. He's the same darling boy you…we…know and love. But I think that I helped him shed some of his doubt…the shyness he had around me back when we had such cut-and-dry roles as pupil and master is gone now, was gone even before we…got together. He didn't seem guilty about it, and before he even spoke I knew what needed to be done."

"So you came here on his behalf." Tatsuki said flatly.

"I came here on my OWN behalf. Ichigo is still on his way to see Rukia; I don't have it in me to sidetrack him from something that important. I saw to it that he had means to reach Soul Society on his own before I left. I could just as easily have fled, let that be a one-time experience and move on. But I don't WANT to, Tatsuki." The addressed was shocked to hear something in the other's words that would never have been belayed through her iron-strong exterior. She sounded…weary. "I'm ready to settle down, stop chasing storms and getting burned by lightning. I don't give a damn that I'll be a few centuries older than anyone involved, that I have to sacrifice some of the heart-pounding exhilaration I've built up an addiction to. I'm telling you now that I'm jealous of what you two have…what you let come naturally."

"You're wrong, Yoruichi." Orihime said. "It didn't just come to us, any more than you let it come to you. It was spontaneous, to be sure, but we've had to work to let things get to this point. Tatsuki and I…we've had to cut back on our pride. We've opened up and shared things with him…with each other-" She glanced over at Tatsuki, with a gentle smile. "To compensate for just how difficult it is. And that is with only three people together. Most people can't even manage two on their first try."

_That's right…_ Yoruichi admonished herself further._ Ichigo's both of their firsts… _

"But…" Orihime continued. "The joy we get from just being around him…from all of us working together, supporting one another…it makes the hardship worth it." She clasped Tatsuki's hand. "I know full well- I've _known_ full well- that by the time Ichigo's through there won't be a single person who feels unresolved. And knowing him, he won't turn away somebody who needs him. I'm not saying that I'm comfortable with it…I don't know you well enough to say for sure whether you'd break his heart or one of ours, and Tatsuki doesn't know you at all. But life, I've come to realize, is a strange creature. Just a month ago I thought that I'd live to be an old spinster, alone, bitter, and reeking of cat urine. But now…I've reconnected with two of the most important people in my world, and then some. I know that I'll never be alone, as long as they care for me, and after knowing how wonderful it is to want, to _be wanted,_ I don't know that I'll ever be bitter again. Although, depending on whether or not you're housebroken I might still smell of cat urine." She stuck her tongue out and tilted her head to one side. Yoruichi didn't even register the subtext for a moment.

"Wait, does that mean-"

Orihime jumped to her feet, rushed past Tatsuki to fall to her knees embracing the startled, brown-sugar-toned visitor.

"Yoruichi…this is an opportunity, not a disaster. We can all grow from this, and I'm sure that having someone like you around will prove to be a huge help in making things work out! You've never been anything but kind to me, so what reason do I have to suspect you of any malicious intent? So, yes, I'm willing to give you a shot." Yoruichi struggled to form a response for a couple of seconds, before resigning to her discomfort and meekly returning the hug. She looked over the redhead's shoulder to Tatsuki, who still sat staring at the spectacle before her.

"And what of you, Miss Arasawa? Are you willing to open up a position around here?"

Tatsuki was unresponsive for a moment or two, mouth agape as she thought through her answer. After some deliberation, she darted her right hand (her punching hand) out towards the scantily-clad goddess. Surprisingly, the battle-hardened gal flinched at the quick movement from this mere human, but when she found that it rested firmly on her shoulder instead of buried in her face she relaxed.

"As long as you aren't shooting for manager. That job-" She hooked back her thumb, gesturing to herself. "Is taken."

Yoruichi chuckled.

"I guess that settles it. Sisterwives, unite! Let us brace ourselves for the growing following of our orange-haired champion!" This oath, borderline-shouted and received with further laughter, nonetheless invoked a curious feeling, be it insecurity or a sense of poetic irony none could tell. As they each rose from the couch in turn, Tatsuki gave a queer look to Yoruichi, asking:

"So…um…were you…by any chance…a cat, about twenty minutes ago?" Tatsuki fumbled through the question, unaware of the knowing smirk that played out across Orihime's face.

"Of course not, dear. Cat's don't talk."


End file.
